












'^. 






^^^0^ or 











.r^<^. 














"^'^ .A^ ♦■C^VA". >. ..r -'^Si^'. t^ A* .>Va:» *«. c'i 





















-^^^^ 






.^' 







■'>'f>. 















xPv\ 







>^ *»7,<»^ <^^ 



















•r -^ 











EVERY DAY LIFE 

IN THE 

COLONIES 



BY 

GERTRUDE L. STONE 

AND 

M. GRACE FICKETT 



BOSTON, U. S. A. 

D. C. HEATH & CO., PUBLISHERS 

1905 



LIBRARY of CONGflt>S 
Two Coutes rt<iC«ivtiU 

JUL 12 iyu5 

COPY tt. 



Copyright, 1905, 
By D. C. Heath & Co. 



Preface 

Each faculty should receive its training at the time 
of its greatest natural activity. The imagination is 
most in evidence in cliildhood. It is charged that 
chiklhood is disappearing in this country. Students 
of childlife warn us that the zest, joys, and imagin- 
ings natural to children find but small place in the 
lives of our young people and that too many of them 
are old before they have had time to be young. The 
tired look seen in the eyes, the weary and wrinkled 
appearance of the face, the nervous and erratic move- 
ments of the limbs indicate an unnatural condition in 
many of our young people. The school is not respon- 
sible for all these unfortunate results. The home, the 
church, and the school should seek a remedy for the 
evils. 

It will be a sad day for the chiklren when they no 
longer find great delight in learning what the boys 
and girls of former days thought, felt, and did. 
Something is wrong when little people cease to have 
the keenest interest in the pastimes, occupations, ap- 
parel, and homes of the cliihlren of long ago and in 

iii 



iv PREFACE 

all the details which made up their daily life. One of 
the most efficient agencies in winning children to 
simple and wholesome living may be the book that 
records the story of childlife in earlier days in a way 
to enlist the sympathy of the reader. 

The present candidate for favor in this field of 
service should receive a cordial welcome. It tells 
graphically and in attractive form how the children of 
New England spent their Christmas and with what 
ceremonies they marked the occasion. These pages 
help our boys and girls to see how this festival has 
been extended and in what ways it has been elabo- 
rated. 

No child of average intelligence can read the ac- 
count of the dame school without being able to close 
his eyes and see the face and figure of the mistress, 
the quaint appearance of the children, to make a pic- 
ture of the room in which the school assembled and 
listen to the routine work of the day. 

Our children will learn some new lessons as they 
study the old-time observance of the Sabbath. It 
will be encouraging if the contrasts and comparisons 
induce in them somewhat of the spirit of reverence 
and devotion that was manifest in colonial days. The 
restraints of the olden time were too severe ; the 
license of the present has its fruits in unwarranted ex- 



PREFACE V 

cesses. A study of the two periods should make pos- 
sible better conduct on the part of our coming citizens. 

Every normal child will be delighted with the 
sketches which are giv^en of soap and candle-making, 
will be glad to know how the colonists told time with- 
out a clock, how children wrote their letters in the 
long ago, and with what anxiety travelers prepared 
for journeys. The fate of the poor debtor's children 
will make little readers sorry for suffering, and thank- 
ful that cruel laws do not permit such injustice in 
these days. The story of the Indian attack on Saco 
will give a new beauty and significance to Whittier's 
famous poem. 

The book will also develop that sympathy and in- 
terest which are the true basis of all historical study. 
It is fortunate that children like incidents, stories, 
sketches, descriptions of life ; that they are eager to 
know how people looked and lived and worked, and 
that they are concerned about the joys and sorrows, 
hopes and fears of their ancestors when they too were 
3^oung. A¥hen the time comes for the formal study of 
history, the children w4io have read this book will find 
themselves traveling over familiar ground and will in- 
terpret w4mt they read in the light of what they know. 

It is with heartiest approval that this volume is pre- 
sented to school officials, teachers, and parents for the 



vi PREFACE 

children of this country. May it be as helpful to them 
as it has proved interesting to, at least, one reader. 
The word pictures are vivid and suggestive, the illus- 
trations are well wrought out, and the lessons are 
stimulating and clearly taught. It is a piece of work 
of which the profession should feel proud. 

W. W. Stetson. 



Authors' Note 

Believing that the subject matter of this book is 
such as lends itself readily to reproduction, either oral 
or written, the authors have prepared a series of lan- 
guage exercises which are printed as an appendix. It 
is hoped that teachers who wish to correlate the work 
in reading and language may find these outlines not 
only practical but suggestive. 

G. L. S. 

M. G. F. 

Gorham Normal Schoolj Maine, 3Iay, 1905. 



vn 



Contents 



The First New England Christmas (1620) 

Dorothy's Hornbook . 

A Puritan Sabbath (About 1668) 

Soap- Making at the Rowlands' 

When the Indians Fell on Saco 

Candle-Making at the Coolidges' 

Telling Time Without a Clock . 

Two Letters of Long Ago (1743) 

A May Day Journey (1727) . 

The Poor Debtor's Children (1733) 

Appendix 



PAGE 
1 

13 

27 
36 
42 
61 
69 
79 
94 
103 
115 



IX 



Illustrations 



On the Deck of the '^ Mayflower" . 
Dorothy's Hornbook .... 
^N'athaniel and the Man in the Stocks 
When the Indians fell on Saco 
Patience Sees the Candles Made 
Telling Time with the Sundial 
Christina Writing Her Letter 
The Maypole Dance .... 
John and Julia Leaving London 



Facing page 
. 10 



18 
24 
46 

66 

74 

98 
108 



XI 



Life in the Colonies 



THE FIRST NEW ENGLAND CHRISTMAS 



It was a warm and pleasant Saturday — that 
twenty-third of December, 1620. The winter 
wind had blown itself away in the storm of the 
day before, and the air was clear and balmy. 

The people on board the Mcmifloiuer were glad 
of the pleasant day. It was three long months 
since they had started from Plymouth, in Eng- 
land, to seek a home across the ocean. Now 
they had come into a harbor that they named 
New Plymouth, in the country of New England. 

Other people called these voyagers Pilgrims, 
which means wanderers. A long while before, 
the Pilgrims had lived in England ; later they 
made their home with the Dutch in Holland ; 
finally they had said good-bye to their friends 
in Holland and in England, and had sailed away 
to America. 

1 



2 LIFE IN THE COLONIES 

There were only one hundred and two of the 
Pilgrims on the Mayjlower ; but they were brave 
and strong and full of hope. Now the May- 
floiver was the only home they had ; yet if this 
weather lasted they might soon have warm log- 
cabins to live in. This very afternoon the men 
had gone ashore to cut down the large trees. 

The women of the Mayfloiver were busy, too. 
Some were spinning, some knitting, some sew- 
ing. It was so bright and pleasant that Mistress 
Rose Standish had taken her knitting and had 
gone to sit a little while on deck. She was too 
weak to face rough weather, and she wanted to 
enjoy the warm sunshine and the clear salt air. 
By her side was Mistress Brewster, the minister's 
wife. Everybody loved Mistress Standish and 
Mistress Brewster, for neither of them ever 
spoke unkindly. 

The air on deck would have been warm even 
on a colder day, for in one corner a bright fire 
was burning. It would seem strange now, would 
it not, to see a fire on the deck of a vessel ? But 
in those days, when the weather was pleasant, 
people on shipboard did their cooking on deck. 

The Pilgrims had no stoves, and Mistress 
Carver's maid had built this fire on a large 
hearth covered with sand. She had hung a 



THE FIRST CHRISTMAS 3 

great kettle on the crane over the fire, where 
the onion soup for supper was now simmering 
slowly. 

Near the fire sat a little girl, husily playing 
and singing to herself. Little Remember Aller- 
ton was only six years old, but she liked to be 
with Hannah, Mistress Carver's maid. This 
afternoon Remember had been watching Han- 
nah build the fire and make the soup. Now 
the little girl was playing with the Indian 
arrowheads her father had brought her the 
night before. She was singing the words of the 
old psalm : — 

''Shout to Jeliovab, all the earth. 
Serve ye Jehovah with gladness ; before 
him bow with singing mirth." 

'' Ah, child, methinks the children of Old 
England are singing different words from those 
to-day," spoke Hannah at length, with a far- 
away look in her eyes. 

'' Why, Hannah ? What songs are the little 
English children singing now ? " questioned 
Remember in surprise. 

*' It lacks but two days of Christmas, child, 
and in my old home everybody is singing 
merry Christmas songs." 



4 LIFE IN THE COLONIES 

" Bat thou hast not told me what is Christ- 
mas? " persisted the child. 

" Ah, me ! Thou dost not know, 'tis true. 
Christmas, Remember, is the birthday of the 
Christ-child, of Jesus whom thou hast learned 
to love," Hannah answered softly. 

" But what makes the English children so 
happy then ? And we are English, thou hast 
told me, Hannah. Why don't we keep Christ- 
mas, too? " 

'^ In sooth we are English, child. But the 
reason why we do not sing the Christmas carols 
or play the Christmas games makes a long, long 
story, Remember. Hannah cannot tell it so that 
little children will understand. Thou must ask 
some other, child." 

Hannah and the little girl were just then near 
the two women on the deck, and Remember said, 

'* Mistress Brewster, Hannah sayeth she know- 
eth not how to tell w^hy Love and Wrestling and 
Constance and the others do not sing the Christ- 
mas songs or play the Christmas games. But 
thou wilt tell me, wilt thou not?" she added 
coaxingly. 

A sad look came into Mistress Brewster's eyes, 
and Mistress Standi sh looked grave, too. No 
one spoke for a few seconds, until Hannah said 



THE FIRST CHRISTMAS 5 

almost sharply, " Why could we not burn a 
Yule log Monday, and make some meal into little 
cakes for the children ? " 

" Nay, Hannah," answered the gentle voice of 
Mistress Brewster. '' Such are but vain shows 
and not for those of us who believe in holier 
things. But," she added, with a kind glance at 
little Remember, '' wouldst thou like to know 
why we have left old England and do not keep 
the Christmas Day? Thou canst not under- 
stand it all, child, and yet it may do thee no 
harm to hear the story. It may help thee to be 
a brave and happy little girl in the midst of our 
hard life." 

'' Surely it can do no harm, Mistress Brew- 
ster," spoke Rose Standish, gently. '* Remem- 
ber is a little Pilgrim now, and she ought, me- 
thinks, to know something of the reason for our 
wandering. Come here, child, and sit by me, 
while good Mistress Brewster tells thee how 
cruel men have made us suffer. Then will I 
sing thee one of the Christmas carols." 

With these words she held out her hands to 
little Remember, who ran quickly to the side of 
Mistress Standish, and eagerly waited for the 
story to begin. 



LIFE IN THE COLONIES 



II 



'' We have not always lived in Holland, Re- 
member. Most of us were born in England, 
and England is the best country in the world. 
'Tis a land to be proud of, Remember, though 
some of its rulers have been wicked and cruel. 

" Long before you were born, when your 
mother was a little girl, the English king said 
that everybody in the land ought to think as he 
thought, and go to a church like his. He said 
he would send us away from England if we did 
not do as he ordered. Now we could not 
think as he did on holy matters, and it seemed 
wrong to us to obey him. So we decided to 
go to a country where we might worship as we 
pleased." 

*' What became of that cruel king. Mistress 
Brewster?" 

" He ruleth England now. But tliou must 
not think too hardly of him. He doth not un- 
derstand, perhaps. Right will win some day, 
Remember, though there may be bloody war be- 
fore peace cometh. And I thank God that we, 
at least, shall not be called on to live in the 
midst of the strife," she went on, speaking more 
to herself than to the little girl. 



THE FIRST CHRISTMAS 7 

*' We decided to go to Holland, out of the 
reach of the king. We were not sure whether it 
was best to move or not, but our hearts were set 
on God's ways. We trusted Him in whom we 
believed. Yes," she went on, '' and shall we not 
keep on trusting Him ? " 

And Rose Standish, remembering the little 
stock of food that was nearly gone, the disease 
that had come upon many of their number, and 
the five who had died that month, answered 
firmly : " Yes. He who has led us thus far 
will not leave us now." 

They were all silent a few seconds. Presently 
Remember said, '' Then did ye go to Holland, 
Mistress Brewster? " 

" Yes," she said. '^ Our people all Avent over 
to Holland, where the Dutch folk live and tlie 
little Dutch children clatter about with their 
wooden shoes. There thou wast born, Remem- 
ber, and my own children, and there we lived in 
love and peace. 

" And yet, we were not wholly happy. We 
could not talk well with the Dutch, and so Ave 
could not set right what was wrong among 
them. 'Twas so hard to earn money that many 
had to go back to England. And worst of all. 
Remember, we were afraid that you and little 



8 LIFE IN THE COLONIES 

Bartholomew and Mary and Love and Wrest- 
ling and all the rest would not grow to be good 
girls and boys. And so we have come to this 
new country to teach our children to be pure 
and noble." 

After another silence Remember spoke again : 
^' I thank thee, Mistress Brewster. And I Avill 
try to be a good girl. But thou didst not tell 
me about Christmas, after all." 

" Nay, child, but now I will. There are long 
services on that day in every church where the 
king's friends go. But there are parts of these 
services which we cannot approve ; and so we 
think it best not to follow the other customs that 
the king's friends observe on Christmas. 

^' They trim their houses with mistletoe and 
holly so that everything looks gay and cheerful. 
Their other name for the Christmas time is the 
Yule-tide, and the big log that is burned then 
is called the Yule log. The children like to 
sit around the hearth in front of the great, 
blazing Yule log, and listen to stories of long, 
long ago. 

'' At Christmas there are great feasts in Eng- 
land, too. No one is allowed to go hungry, for 
the rich people on that day always send meat 
and cakes to the poor folk round about. 



THE FIRST CHRISTMAS 



'' But we like to make all our days Christmas 
days, Remember. We try never to forget God's 
gifts to us, and they remind us always to be good 
to other people." 



Ill 



'' And the Christmas carols, Mistress Standish ? 
What are they ? " 

'' On Christmas eve and early on Christmas 
morning," Rose Standish answered, '' little chil- 
dren go about from house to house, singing 
Christmas songs. Tis what I like best in all 
the Christmas cheer. And I promised to sing 
thee one, did I not? " 

Then Mistress Standish sang in her clear, 
sweet voice the quaint old English words : — 



As Joseph was a-walking, 
He heard an angel sing : — 
"This night shall be the birth -time 
Of Christ, the heavenly King. 

''He neither shall be born 
In housen nor in hall, 
Nor in the place of Paradise, 
But in an ox's stall. 



10 LIFE IN THE COLONIES 

"He neither shall be clothed 
In purple nor in i)all, 
But in the fair white linen 
That usen babies all. 

" He neither shall be rocked 
In silver nor in gold, 
But in a wooden manger 
That resteth in the mould." 

As Joseph was a- walking 
There did an angel sing, 

And Mary's child at midnight 
Was born to be our King. 

Then be ye glad, good people, 
This night of all the year. 

And light ye up your candk^s. 
For His star it shineth clear. 



Before the song was over, Hannah had come 
on deck again, and was listening eagerly. " I 
thank thee, Mistress Standish," she said, the 
tears filling her blue eyes. *' 'Tis long indeed 
since I have heard that song." 

'' Would it be wrong for me to learn to sing 
those words, Mistress Standish ? " gently ques- 
tioned the little girl. 

'' Nay, Remember, I trow not. The song 
shall be thy Christmas gift." 




On the peck of the " Mayflower." 



THE FIRST CHRISTMAS 11 

Then Mistress Standish taught the little girl 
one verse after another of the sweet old carol, 
and it was not long before Remember could say 
it all. 

The next day was dull and cold, and on Mon- 
day, the twenty-fifth, the sky was still overcast. 
There was no bright Yule log in the Mayflower, 
and no holly trimmed the little cabin. 

The Pilgrims were true to the faith they loved. 
They held no special service. They made no 
gifts. Instead, they went again to the work of 
cutting the trees, and no one murmured at his 
hard lot. 

'^ We went on shore," one man wrote in his 
diary, '' some to fell timber, some to saw, some 
to rive, and some to carry ; so no man rested all 
that day." 

As for little Remember, she spent the day on 
board the Mayflower. She heard no one speak 
of England or sigh for the Englisli home across 
the sea. But she did not forget Mistress Brew- 
ster's story ; and more than once that day, as she 
was playing by herself, she fancied that she was 
in front of some English home, helping the 
English children sing their Christmas songs. 

And both Mistress Allerton and Mistress 
Standish, whom God was soon to call away from 



12 LIFE IN THE COLONIES 

their earthly home, felt happier and stronger as 
they heard the little girl singing : — 

''He neither shall be born 
In housen nor in hall, 
Nor in the place of Paradise, 
But in an ox's stall." 



Learn : — 

God wills it : here our rest shall be, 

Our years of wandering o'er, 
For us the Mayfloicer of the sea 

Shall spread her sails no more. 

— John Greenleaf Whitfier. 



DOROTHY'S HORNBOOK 



Dorothy Parker began to go to school the 
day she was four years old. Her birthday came 
in May, and it was a bright spring morning 
when she started with her sister Faith to walk 
to the dame's school a mile away. This odd 
name — a dame's school — meant that the school 
was taught by a woman, and that it was kept 
for the little children and the older girls. 

Dorothy's brother Jonathan went to a master, 
but Jonathan was learning Latin, because he 
was to go to Harvard College. Nothing was 
taught in the dame's school but reading, writ- 
ing, and casting accounts, — no music, no draw- 
ing, no nature study. The minister's daughter 
taught the school in a room in the parsonage ; 
and all the little children that Dorothy knew 
went to this school. 

Dorothy enjoyed the walk. Part of the way 
the path lay through the woods and was marked 
by notches cut in the trees, just as the Indians 

13 



14 LIFE IN THE COLONIES 

blazed their paths through the deeper forests. 
Overhead the song sparrows, bluebirds, and cat- 
birds were flying to and fro with straws and 
threads for their nests. A catbird whistled to 
Dorothy in such a sociable manner that she 
thought he might be saying, " Such a little, 
little girl to go to school, school, school 1 " 

Dorothy felt quite grown-up by the time she 
reached the parsonage, though her feet dragged 
rather heavily and her dinner-pail seemed to 
have more dinner in it than when she left 
home. She took off" her hat and the school- 
mistress gave her a seat. Now she would learn 
to read ! 

School began, and the teacher was soon busy 
with the other pupils. She seemed to have for- 
gotten Dorothy. The little girl watched and 
waited patiently, but at last the schoolmistress 
seemed a long way ofl" and her voice was so far 
away that it could hardly be heard. Dorothy's 
head nodded to the right, then to the left, and 
then she was fast asleep. 

When she awoke, it was the noon hour and 
Faith had the dinner-pail in her hand. 

" Come out of doors," she said, and Dorothy 
gladly followed. 

In the afternoon Dorothy stood on the floor 



DOROTHY'S HORNBOOK 15 

with a class of little children, but as she did 
not know what they had already learned in 
school, she could not recite. On the whole, it 
was such a very disappointing day that Dorothy 
could hardly keep back the tears when she told 
her mother that she had not learned to read. 

Her mother smiled. " Rome was not built in 
a day," she said soothingly, and then, turning 
to Faith, she added, '' Dorothy must have the 
hornbook to-morrow." 

Dorothy understood both remarks. She knew 
that the first meant she must not be in too much 
of a hurry. How many times she had heard 
that before ! She knew also that her mother 
had really promised that to-morrow she should 
have the precious hornbook dangling from her 
neck just as Faith had worn it when she first 
went to school. 



II 

Think of wearing your primer on a cord 
around your neck ! That was what Dorothy 
was so proud to do. Think of calling that 
primer a book, when it was not a book at all, 
but just a single page ! 

The hornbook was the only kind of primer 



16 LIFE IN THE COLONIES 

the school children had in those days. When 
the strange primer was hung around Dorothy's 
neck, in order that she might carry it safely to 
school, it really looked more like a toy than 
anything else. There was only one printed 
page. A thin piece of wood was put behind 
the sheet of paper to keep it smooth, and over 
the printing was spread a sheet of horn so thin 
that the letters could be seen through it. 

Printing cost so much in those days that the 
little sheet must be kept safe from wet or dirty 
fingers. But glass was costly, too, and so the 
thin covering of horn was used. A frame of 
brass was put around the whole, and the wooden 
back had a handle at the bottom. The horn- 
book looked like a little hand mirror. A very 
odd primer ! 

Dorothy wore her hornbook to school the 
second day. A new cord had been put through 
the hole in the end of the little wooden handle, 
and the hornbook hung like a very large locket 
around Dorothy's fat little neck. 

The string was so long that Dorothy could 
hold her primer in her hand and study it with- 
out taking off the cord. 

The one little printed page that made Doro- 
thy's whole primer was scarcely more than half 



DOROTHY'S HORNBOOK 17 

as large as a page of our books. Yet it seemed 
to her that there was a great deal on it to learn. 
There was not a single thing she could tell ex- 
cept the crosses in the two upper corners. 

This second morning the teacher called Doro- 
thy to her side. The little girl went eagerly. 
She had been holding tight the handle of the 
hornbook and waiting since school began, to find 
out how to read. 

'^ What can you read in your ' Criss Cross 
Row'?" asked the teacher, using the name often 
given to the hornbook page because of the two 
crosses in the upper corners. 

'' Nothing," faltered Dorothy, '' except the 
crosses." 

'' That is not reading," severely replied the 
teacher. '' To learn to read you must learn your 
letters first." 

Using a knitting needle for a pointer, she 
began at the top of the page where the alphabet 
was printed in both capitals and small letters. 
She taught Dorothy big A and little a for her 
first lesson. Learning to read was not at all like 
what Dorothy had expected. She wanted to 
cry, but she was too proud. 



18 LIFE IN THE COLONIES 



III 



If Dorothy had gone to school when her own 
daughter's daughter went, she would have had 
a real book with pictures. Perhaps there would 
have been a picture of an acorn and a picture of 
a boy and the rhyme : — 

" A is au Acorn that grew on an oak, 
B is a Boy who delights in his book." 

This surely would have given some help in 
learning A and B. 

It would have been easier still if Dorothy had 
learned to read in these days, for nobody would 
have troubled her with the letters at all. She 
would have begun at once with little stories, 
just as she expected to do. 

It seemed very stupid to keep saying the 
alphabet. Round O and curly S, to be sure, 
were easy, but how could any one ever tell which 
was little b and which was little d f 

There were days when Dorothy wished she 
lived where little girls had no hornbooks. At 
last she knew that the hump was on the right 
side of b and on the left side of d ; and she knew 
also the sounds of the easy syllables in the next 
line, a-b, ab^ o-b, ob, and all the others. 




Dorothy's Hok^book. 



DOROTHY'S HORNBOOK 19 

There were more lines on the hornbook page, 
and they took a long time to learn, because one 
was a line that held all the figures, and the lower 
part of the page contained the Lord's Prayer. 

The day she was five years old Dorothy read 
to her grandfather everything on the hornbook 
from the cross in the upper left hand corner to 
the Amen at the end of the prayer. 

'' Grandfather is proud of his little grand- 
daughter," said the old man with delight when 
the child had finished. '' She has called every 
word as it is on the page." 

*' Perhaps," said Dorothy a little doubtfully, 
'' I couldn't have read all the Prayer if I had 
not heard you say it so many times." 

Her grandfather smiled. *' By another birth- 
day you will feel sure of every word, I think, 
and then you must have a book of your very 
own." 

Doroth}'' said very little about her book, but 
she kept hoping that it would be a book of the 
Psalms like the copy Faith had, even to the 
black cover with a gilt cross. 

She was an earnest little pupil, and when her 
next birthday came, she did know every word, 
even when it was outside the prayer, — as her 
grandfather had prophesied. She could also 



20 LIFE IN THE COLONIES 

read some easy stories in a book the school- 
mistress lent her. 

One May morning her grandfather called 
her to him and said, '' This is yours, Dorothy." 

Dorothy, of course, looked at the object he 
held in his hand, and her eyes shone as she saw 
there a little black Psalm book. 

'' You must do your reading in this now," 
grandfather said smilingly, '' for Solace must 
have the hornbook this spring when he begins 
to go to school." 

Learn : — 

Nor let them fall under Discouragement, 

Who at their Hornbook stick, and time hath spent, 

Upon that A B C, while others do 

Into their Primer or their Psalter go. 

— John Bunyan (1686). 



A PURITAN SABBATH 



'* Is that grandmother at the corner, Na- 
thaniel?" asked Mistress Mather one pleasant 
morning in June. 

*^ Yes, mother, and she is turning this way. 
May I go to meet her? " 

Of course Mistress Mather said yes, and Na- 
thaniel ran as fast as he could towards the 
corner. In a few moments back he came, hold- 
ing to his grandmother's hand. But grand- 
mother could not spend the day ; she had come 
on an errand, she said. 

Pretty soon Nathaniel heard grandmother 
say, '' Art thou willing, daughter Maria, that 
Nathaniel should stay w^ith me two or three 
days ? Perhaps 'twill help him to grow stronger, 
and surely 'twill keep me from lonely thoughts." 

'' Methinks 'twould do the child no harm," 
answered Mistress Mather. '' Wouldst thou 
like to spend the Sabbath with grandmother, 
Nathaniel ? " 

21 



22 LIFE IN THE COLONIES 

"May I, mother?" asked the boy, with an 
eagerness that made his mother glad. 

For Nathaniel had never been strong and 
active like other children. That year, all 
through April and May, he had been too ill even 
to sit up. Though he was much better, his 
cheeks were still pale, and he looked frail and 
thin. 

Just then Nathaniel's father came in. He 
was a man about whom you will read more 
some time, for he was a famous minister of 
Boston. 

He had a name that sounds odd to us now — 
Increase Mather. Names meant more in those 
early days than they do now. Mr. Increase 
Mather had named his oldest son, Nathaniel's 
brother. Cotton ; but that was because Grand- 
mother Mather was once Mistress Cotton. 

One of Nathaniel's uncles was born on board 
the ship that brought grandmother and Mr. 
Cotton to America ; so they called him Seaborn. 
Perhaps you have heard of Oceanus Hopkins 
and Peregrine White. I wonder if you know 
what those names mean. And I trust you 
have not forgotten Remember Allerton and 
Love and Wrestling Brewster. 

It was Saturday, and a busy day for Mr. 



A PURITAN SABBATH 23 

Mather. He stayed only long enough to say, 
^' Be a good boy, Nathaniel, and do as grand- 
mother bids thee. ' Remember the Sabbath day 
to keep it holy.' " 

If you had seen the little five-year-old boy 
trudging along North street with his grand- 
mother, you would have wondered, '' Is it a girl 
or a boy ? " For Nathaniel was not dressed like 
little boys of to-day. 

He wore a skirt that came to his ankles, and 
his waist had long, loose sleeves. He did not 
wear a hat. Instead, he had a cap tied with 
strings under his chin. His shoes, too, were not 
like yours. His mother had made them, and 
they were more like the soft moccasins that 
your baby brother wears. They would seem 
clumsy to you, but I dare say Nathaniel thought, 
if he thought anything about it, that they were 
very pretty shoes indeed. 

Nor was grandmother Mather dressed a bit 
like your grandmother. Folded across her 
breast was a large, white kerchief. But the 
strangest thing about her was her hat. It was 
called steeple-crowned, for its tall, pointed 
crown looked a little like a steeple. 

'' See, Nathaniel ! " said grandmother sud- 
denly. '' There is a man in the stocks." 



24 LIFE IN THE COLONIES 

As Nathaniel looked, he saw what no one of 
you has ever seen. Two boards were fastened 
together so that they looked like a piece of board 
fence. Behind these boards a man was sitting, 
but how uncomfortable he looked ! His feet 
and hands were sticking out through holes in 
the boards, and he could not move if he wanted 
to. 

Being placed in the stocks was a common 
punishment in those days, and it hurt more than 
you would think. Try some time to hold an 
arm or a leg in the same position for a few min- 
utes, and then think how uncomfortable you 
would be if you had to sit that way a day at a 
time. 

'' Who is the wicked man ? And what wrong 
hath he done, grandmother ? " asked Nathaniel. 

'' I know not his name, child. But his home 
is by the water-front, and last Sabbath he forgot 
God's command and profaned the holy day. 
He sat in his doorway and went not to the meet- 
ing-house." 

'^ I am sorry for him. But perhaps he will be 
a better man now, grandmother. How tired and 
ashamed he looks ! " 

'' 'Tis not easy to sit in the stocks, child, nor 
to bear the looks of all the passers-by." 




Nathaniet. and the Man 
IN THE Stocks. 



A PURITAN SABBATH 25 

'^ I hope I shall never have to sit in the 
stocks," Nathaniel said, looking very solemn. 

And grandmother smiled at the loving and 
obedient little boy as she answered, '' 1 have 
no fear of that, Nathaniel." 



II 

The old lady and the little boy walked on 
slowly up the hill till they came to what is now 
Pemberton square. In this neighborhood, and 
not far back from Tremont street. Grandmother 
Mather lived. 

Stretching back up the hill from the house 
was a large yard filled with rose bushes and 
apple trees. After dinner grandmother and 
Nathaniel walked about in the garden, stopping 
now and then to smell the roses or to watch the 
butterflies and humming birds. 

The little boy grew tired before long, and they 
both sat down on the soft green grass. There 
Nathaniel could watch the sea and the sky as he 
listened to stories about his Uncle Seaborn which 
grandmother liked so much to tell. 

By and by Deborah, who had lived many 
years with grandmother, came to call them to 
supper. By this time the town had grown very 



26 LIFE IN THE COLONIES 

quiet. Scarcely a sound could be heard except 
the twittering of the birds overhead, or the soft 
murmur of the wind in the apple trees. 

For as Nathaniel was sitting in the garden 
the Sabbath had come to many people, and work 
had stopped for the week. It would come for 
everybody at sunset, but at three o'clock most 
people put their w^ork aside and began to get 
themselves and their children ready for the 
Lord's Day. 

After Nathaniel had eaten his supper, he went 
out to bid good-night, he said, to the sky and the 
sea and the flow^ers. But just as the sun w^as 
setting, grandmother called him in again. 

Into the best room they went, and with them 
the two servants, Deborah and old John. Then 
the first part of the Sabbath worship began. 

Grandmother made a long prayer, but not 
so long, Nathaniel thought, as his father's or 
those his Grandfather Mather used to make. 
Then they all sang a psalm, and the little boy's 
clear, sweet treble sounded above the other 
voices in the well-known w^ords : — 

^^The Lord is both my health and light ; 
Shall men make me dismayed ! 
Sith God doth give me strength and might, 
Why should I be afraid 1 " 



A PURITAN SABBATH 27 

Next came the time when every one was to 
sit by himself a little while and think over the 
sins of the past week. Nothing could be heard 
but the crickets chirping in the garden ; and 
they seemed to say to little Nathaniel, '' What — 
have — you — done ? What — have — you — done ? " 

The little boy tried so hard to think of a time 
when he had been naughty or unkind that he 
fell fast asleep in his big chair. He did not 
wake even when John carried him upstairs, and 
grandmother undressed him and tucked him 
into bed. 

The next morning the sky and sea were as 
beautiful as they had been the day before, but 
'' stillness was in the little town." It w^as the 
morning of the Sabbath and no one was stirring. 
^' There was no footfall, no sound of voices in 
the streets." 

Deborah had made everything ready for 
breakfast the night before, so that with few and 
noiseless steps she soon placed the meal upon 
the table. Nathaniel tiptoed downstairs, and 
climbed into his chair with only a bow for good- 
morning. 

The breakfast was a very quiet meal. After 
grandmother's long prayer at the beginning, she 
did not speak again except to ask Deborah for 



28 LIFE IN THE COLONIES 

more milk for Nathaniel. So of course nobody 
else spoke. 

After breakfast, Deborah cleared the table and 
grandmother and Nathaniel went into the best 
room. Then grandmother took from the shelf 
a book of questions and answers about the Bible, 
called the catechism. Nathaniel knew that 
book, for he had seen one like it every Sunday 
since he could remember. 

Every child had to study the catechism and 
learn it by heart. Nathaniel could say a large 
number of the answers, even though the words 
were long and he could not understand them 
very well. 

'' Thou wilt understand them better by and by, 
Nathaniel," grandmother said, consolingly. 

Right in the midst of a long answer, Nathaniel 
heard a bell ring. 

'' We will stop now," said grandmother. " It 
is half past eight, and time to go to meeting. 
Find John and Deborah, Nathaniel, and we will 
start." 



Ill 

Before long, they were all walking down the . 
hill to the church in North street, where Na- ji 



A PURITAN SABBATH 29 

thaniel's father preachedo They did not call it a 
church, but a meeting-house, for there, they said, 
God met together with the people. 

It was no new thing for Nathaniel, young as 
he was, to go to meeting. His mother used to 
take him when he was only a baby ; and for two 
years now he had tried his best to understand 
the long sermon in the morning and the second 
long one in the afternoon. 

Nathaniel could not sit with grandmother in 
the meeting-house, nor even with his mother. 
His place was with his brother Cotton and the 
other boys on the pulpit stairs. 

He stood quietly through his father's long 
prayer, and then, sitting down, he listened to 
every word in the Bible chapter that the other 
minister read and explained. But he was glad 
when it came time for everybody to sing with 
the leader : — 

"Likewise the lieaveus he down-bow' d 
aud he descended: also there 
Was at his feet a gloomy cloud 

and he on cherubs rode apace." 

Then came the sermon. Nathaniel listened 
Avith all his might, for he knew well that both 
his father and grandmother would ask what he 



30 LIFE IN THE COLONIES 

remembered about it. Besides, he was much 
afraid of Goodman Merry, the ti thing-man. 

Every meeting-house in those days had its 
tithing-man. It was his business to see that no- 
body went to sleep and that everybody behaved 
welL 

He carried a long pole, with which he struck 
any person on the head who was not doing as 
he ought. One end of the pole was tipped with 
fur from a rabbit's tail. This was the end that 
Goodman Merry used when he wanted to wake 
a tired mother or a sleepy little girl. But if he 
saw a boy laughing or dozing, he struck the lit- 
tle fellow sharply with the other end. That 
was hard, for it was tipped w^ith the rabbit's foot. 

This very Sunday a boy laughed aloud. 
Down came the tithing rod with a hard thump 
on his head. Nathaniel looked at the unhappy 
boy, and thought : *' How could he have 
laughed ! And how I hope I shall not go to 
sleep and be hit with the hard rod ! " 

When Mr. Mather began to talk, he used to 
turn the hour-glass so that the lower part was 
empty. When the sand had all run down, the 
children would say to themselves, '' Now he is 
half through." Then the minister would turn 
the glass over again, and when the sand had run 



A PURITAN SABBATH 31 

out for the second time the sermon would be 
finished. 

It was pretty hard for a little boy of five to 
sit still two hours on a bright Sunday in June, 
without once nodding. But Nathaniel did keep 
awake, for he remembered Goodman Merry and 
the tithing rod. 

When he grew too sleepy to listen any longer 
to the sermon, he tried all manner of ways to 
make time pass quickly. He could count to 
ten ; so he counted all the groups of ten people 
that he could make. First he counted the men 
with dark hair, then the men with light hair. 
Then he counted the little girls he knew, then 
those he didn't know, until finally the last grain 
of sand had run out for the last time. 

Now that the sermon w^as finished, the meet- 
ing was almost over. After one more prayer 
and a hymn, it was time for the benediction. 
How every little boy and girl rejoiced to leave 
those hard seats and get some fresh air again ! 

Nathaniel was not strong enough to walk up 
the hill before the afternoon service at two 
o'clock, and grandmother took him to his own 
home, not far from the church. 

Mistress Mather was glad to find that her lit- 
tle boy had passed such a pleasant night with 



32 LIFE IN THE COLONIES 

his grandmother, but she knew that the long 
service must have made him tired and sleepy. 
So, after the cold dinner, she let little Nathaniel 
sleep for an hour, before it was time to go again 
to the meeting-house. His brother Cotton, 
however, was not allowed a nap. He went 
instead into his father's study to learn his 
catechism to recite that evening. 

At two o'clock they all went again to hear an- 
other long sermon. This time Mr. Mather read 
the chapter and the other minister preached. 
Nathaniel was rather glad of this change, for, 
dearly as he loved his fatlier, he could keep 
awake better when he listened to a strange voice. 

IV 

When the afternoon meeting was over, Na- 
thaniel went back with his grandmother to the 
house on the hill. He went in at once, because 
people thought it was wrong to sit out of doors 
on a Sabbath afternoon or to wander among the 
trees in the garden. " To Avalk in that way," 
they said, " is walking profanely on the Sab- 
bath." 

So Nathaniel quietly followed grandmother 
into the best room. First they talked about the 



1 



I 



A PURITAN SABBATH 33 

sermons they had heard that day ; then grand- 
mother read to him from a book for children 
that Grandfather Cotton had written. Tlie 
title had one rather hard word in it, but if 
Nathaniel could understand it, you ought to. 
It was called '' Spiritual Milk for Boston Babes 
in Either England." It was not a story — only 
questions and answers much like those in the 
catechism that the little boy had recited in the 
morning. 

Nathaniel could sa}^ many of the answers in 
this book, too, and to-night grandmother read to 
him from a part he had not studied. 

The new answers were not all easy for him 
to understand, and though he meant to listen, 
he found himself more than once thinking of 
that kind old grandfather whom he had never 
seen, but about Avhom grandmother had so often 
talked to him. So thinking, he went to sleep, 
and dreamed that he saw red-cheeked, blue- 
eyed Grandfather Cotton holding out to him 
a large cup of milk, and saying, ^' Drink it, 
Nathaniel. It will make thee well and strong." 

When Monday morning came, Boston was a 
different town. Nathaniel woke early, and was 
glad enough to hear the rumble of carts and the 
sound of voices. He knew that he might spend 



34 LIFE IX THE COLONIES 

the whole day out of doors and wander as he 
pleased among the rose bushes. 

All of a sudden it occurred to him that he 
might have to go home that day. But grand- 
mother had said '' two or three days," and 
grandmother never forgot. "So I shall stay 
here to-day and maybe to-morrow," concluded 
Nathaniel. '' But even then it will not be much 
longer, for Monday and Tuesday together are 
shorter than Sunday." And so it proved. 

That morning John had an errand over in 
Dorchester and he took the little fellow in the 
saddle with him. Grandmother was afraid it 
would be a rather hard ride for a little sick boy, 
but the little sick boy bore it better than she 
feared. Of course, Prince couldn't help jolting 
them ; but that wasn't bad when Nathaniel got 
used to it, and John held him so tightly that he 
could not have fallen off if he had tried. 

Tuesday he fully expected to go home ; and 
once, when grandmother brought him his cap, 
he Avas sure his visit had come to an end. But 
no, he was wrong ; for grandmother only took 
him down on Milk street to call on a woman 
who had been ill longer than he had. 

Finally, when Wednesday afternoon came, 
the visit was really over. Grandmother once 



A PURITAN SABBATH 35 

more put on her steeple hat and tied Nathaniel's 
cap strings under his chin. Then, hand-in- 
hand, the old lady and the little boy walked 
down the hill to the Mather home in North 
street. 

Learn : — 

Q. Which is the fourth commandment % 
A. The fourth commandment is, Eemember the Sab- 
bath-day, to keep it holy. Six days shalt thou labor 
and do all thy work, but the seventh day is the Sabbath 
of the Lord thy God : in it thou shalt not do any work ; 
thou, nor thy son, nor thy daughter, thy man-servant, 
nor thy maid-servant, nor thy cattle, nor thy stranger 
that is within thy gates. For in six days the Lord made 
heaven and earth, the sea, and all that in them is, and 
rested the seventh day ; wherefore the Lord blessed the 
Sabbath-day and hallowed it. — FromNathanieV s Catechism. 



SOAP-MAKING AT THE HOWLANDS' 



The snowdrifts were disappearing fast. Each 
day the sun drank up a great many little ones 
and devoured huge pieces of the larger ones. 
Great patches of brown earth were uncovered 
in every direction, and the " caw, caw " of the 
crows could be heard each morning. 

'' Spring has really come, and we must make 
the soap at once," sighed Goodwife Howland. 
'' The grease will be softening and the meat 
scraps are thawing. We shall not want to have 
them about the house any longer. Jonathan, 
you and William may as well make the lye 
to-morrow." 

''Make the lye!" Little Richard heard it 
with a start. He was only five and he knew of 
just one kind of lie, — and that kind, he had 
been taught, people ought not to make. 

'' You will need to use two barrels," added 
Goodwife Howland. 

'' What can she mean ? " puzzled Richard, be- 
36 



S^AP-MAKING 37 

ginniDg to watch very carefully to see what his 
big brothers would do. 

They did nothing about the soap-making that 
day, for they were busy chopping wood to burn 
in the great fireplace the coming winter ; but 
the next day they started the soap-making as 
their mother had suggested. 

It was all new to Richard. He had been sick 
with measles at soap-making time the year 
before. And before that, — well, he could not 
remember. But they must have made soap, 
because people had always been telling him to 
wash his hands. 

As children were taught in those days that 
they should be seen and not heard, Richard 
kept his bright blue eyes wade open, but asked 
very few questions. 

When Jonathan and William were ready to 
make the lye, Jonathan rolled out two barrels, 
each with a hole bored in the bottom. Into 
each barrel he put a layer of clean, fresh straw, 
and with William's help filled each with wood 
ashes. Then they lifted the barrels to a high 
bench that stood by the shed door, taking care 
that the holes were just above two large empty 
buckets. 

*' The ashes cannot get into the buckets on 



38 LIFE IN THE COLONIES 

account of the straw," thought Richard. Still 
he asked no cjuestions. 

When the barrels and buckets were in place, 
Jonathan brought two pails of water. These 
and many more he and William poured over 
the ashes, until at last the water began to drip 
into the buckets below. 

'' Pretty dirty looking stuff! " thought Rich- 
ard, as he stepped up to have a better view of 
the water in the buckets. 

" Look out, child ! " called Jonathan. " Do 
not touch the lye unless you want to lose the 
skin from your fingers." 

So it was lye which the buckets held ! 
Nothing but water that had run through wood 
ashes ! Well, he was glad to learn. 

" Surely you do not think it is strong enough 
yet to eat the skin," said William. 

'' Very likely it is," replied Jonathan. ''As 
soon as it is through dripping we will test it ; I 
hope it will not be necessary to pour it through 
again." 

'' Will Jonathan test it by dipping in his fin- 
ger?" Richard asked himself. He did not like 
to think of the result if the lye was strong. 
But he need not have troubled himself about 
Jonathan's finger ; for late in the afternoon 



SOAP-MAKING 39 

Jonathan brought out a hen's egg and placed it 
in one of the buckets. Wonder of wonders ! It 
did not sink. He put the egg in the other 
bucket : it floated there also. 

'' Good ! both buckets of lye are all ready for 
use," he said, with relief. '' We will have the 
soap-making out of the way soon." 

II 

Nothing more was done about the soap until 
the next morning. Then Jonathan began the 
work by building a fire under the huge set ket- 
tle in the back kitchen and by pouring the lye 
into the kettle. 

His mother brought the frozen meat scraps 
and the waste grease that had been saved during 
the winter. These she put into the lye. 

Such a dirty kettleful as it was ! Richard 
fairly laughed to himself. That make soap ? 
The idea ! Why, he would not have to use any 
soap all next year for scrubbing his hands ! 

Much as he disliked to bother about clean 
hands, he was almost sorry that he would not be 
able to get clean if he should want to. 

*' The skimmer, Richard," directed his mother, 
in the midst of his worriment. The kettleful of 



40 LIFE IN THE COLONIES 

lye and grease was bubbling briskly. When 
Richard brought the skimmer, Goodwife How- 
land began to take off all the refuse which rose 
to the top. Out came bones, skin, and pieces of 
candle wicking. 

After a time, when all the waste had been 
skimmed, the liquid grew thick as molasses. 
Richard thought, as he watched it boil, that 
perhaps after all he would have to wash his 
hands. The thick ropy mixture was coming to 
look very much like the soap he had used all 
the last year. 

PffI j)ff! pff! Blob I blob! It boiled as you 
have seen molasses candy boil when it is almost 
ready to take off the stove. At last his mother 
said, '' The soap is made ! " 

When Jonathan and William came in for din- 
ner they ladled the hot soap into pails, and 
carried it down cellar to fill the soap barrel. 
Most people to-day keep their soap in boxes, but 
the Howland family always kept theirs in a bar- 
rel ; and when they needed more soap upstairs 
they brought it up in a bowl. 

When the soap was cold it was still a thick 
brown jelly, but that was just what Goodwife 
Howland expected, for the only kind of soap 
she ever made for her famil}^ was what is called 



1 



SOAP-MAKING 41 

soft soap. It was not a bit like the hard white 
soap you like to use when you wash your hands, 
but it was very good soap ; and Richard How- 
land could get his busy little hands just as clean 
as if he had used the prettiest, sweetest-smelling 
cake of hard soap that ever was made. 

Learn : — 

CleaDliness is next to Godliness. 

— John Wesley. 



WHEN THE INDIANS FELL ON SACO 



It was a cold winter night on the Maine coast. 
Goodwife Garvin had carried away the candle, 
leaving her little daughter Mary alone in the 
small bedroom next the kitchen. Mary had 
taken a slight cold that day. Her mother had 
put her to bed earlier than usual and had made 
her some ginger-tea that would be good at any 
time, Mary thought. To-night it tasted very 
good indeed. 

"Thank you, mother," Mary had said, drink- 
ing the last drop. As the little ten-year-old 
girl settled comfortably back upon the pillow, 
she forgot all about her cold. The ginger-tea 
had been a rare treat, and she was to stay all 
night in the warm bedroom instead of going up- 
stairs as usual. On the wall she could watch 
the reflection of the cheerful fire in the kitchen. 

It was too dark to see out of doors, but Mary 
could hear the white flakes of snow piling them- 
selves softly against the windoAV. *' How pleas- 
ant it is here in bed ! " she said to herself, and 

42 



INDIANS FELL ON SACO 43 

that was the last she really thought that night. 
The sound of voices from the kitchen became 
fainter and fainter ; the light on the wall danced 
less and less ; and before very long, Mary was 
fast asleep. 

The voices in the kitchen went with her, how- 
ever ; and in her dreams they changed to the 
tinkle of the little brook by which she played 
in the summer. The flickering light on the 
wall became the dancing shadow of the willow 
tree that grew by the edge of the brook. Mary 
had pleasant dreams that night ; and when her 
mother gently kissed her good-night, she was 
smiling in her sleep. 

Suddenly Mary woke. It was the gray twi- 
light of the winter morning and she could not 
see distinctly. But what Avas that tall, straight, 
ugly form by the bed ? She gave one frightened 
look, then tried to scream ; but a hard, dark 
hand was on her lips, and a grufl" voice said, 
" No scream ! Me kill ! " 

In an instant Mary understood. The Indians 
— the savage, murdering Indians — had fallen 
upon Saco. They would kill or carry off every 
one they could find. Had they killed her father 
and mother, she wondered ? 

As she lay there, not daring to move, she 



44 LIFE IN THE COLONIES 

heard a loud shot, then another, and another. 
There were noises everywhere. She heard quick 
footsteps in the kitchen and upstairs, and voices 
that she could not understand rang through the 
house. 

The Indian, meantime, was pointing to her 
clothes that were lying near the bed, and Mary 
knew he meant that slie was to dress quickly. 
She put on her clothes, but her hands shook so 
that it was slow work. Then the Indian, still 
keeping his hand on her mouth, lifted her to 
his shoulder and hurried from the house. 

Mai-y tried to look about. She saw the form 
of their next door neighbor lying on his back in 
the yard. Suddenly her captor, picking up a 
blanket, threw it over Mary's head, and she 
could not see, or hear, and could hardly breathe. 

The Indian carried Mary a long, long time, 
and he walked very fast indeed. The little girl 
was growing more and more frightened every 
moment. What had become of her father and 
mother she could not tell. She knew only that 
she was a prisoner, and she thought the Indian 
was carrying her to far-off Canada. 

She tried not to remember the stories she had 
heard of the children that the Indians had 
stolen ; but she could not put the horrible tales 



i:NrDIANS FELL ON SACO 45 

out of her mind. Some dreadful thing might 
happen to her, and she trembled all over when 
the Indian put her roughly down and beckoned 
her to follow him. 

It had stopped snowing and the sun was 
shining. Walking was a difficult matter, never- 
theless, for the snow was soft and deep, and 
Mary could not go so fast as the Indian wanted 
her to. 

By and by the sun was almost over their 
heads, and Mary knew that it was noon. Then 
Whirling Wind (for that was the Indian's name) 
stopped, munched a piece of dried deer-meat 
that he had with him, and at last gave another 
piece to Mary, making motions for her to eat, 
too. She did not feel like eating, but she dared 
not disobey ; so she chewed the deer-meat, and, 
to her surprise, it did not taste so bad, after all. 

Then Whirling Wind made some snowshoes 
for Mary and showed her how to use them. It 
was hard work at first and she grew very tired. 
She was so tired she cried, but Whirling Wind 
did not seem to care. He grunted and said, 
'' No cry ! Hurry ! " and the frightened child 
dared not cry again. Every step she took hurt 
so that it seemed as if she could not take 
another ; but she walked till the sun had set. 



46 LIFE IN THE COLONIES 

Then they stopped again ; Mary had some 
more meat and a drink of water ; and Whirling 
Wind began to make a bed out of some fir 
boughs. Then he threw her the blanket that 
he had put over her head in the morning, and 
she knew that she was at last to have a chance 
to rest. 

Strange to say, she had not thought till then 
about her cold of the day before. Bedtime 
brought it all back — her mother and father, the 
warm house, the happy home. She cried again, 
but Whirling Wind, who was never very far 
away, stood over her ; and, touching his toma- 
hawk, he said, '' No cry ! This kill ! " 

After a while, miserable though she was, Mary 
fell asleep and slept soundly all night. The 
next morning, she found a great change in the 
camp. Lying not far from her, on beds of fir, 
were some children about her own age and two 
young men. She knew them all, for she had 
seen them often at the meeting-house. There 
were the three Dyer children, John, Daniel and 
Hannah, and William and Rufus Johnson. 
With the prisoners were three more Indians and 
two Frenchmen. All five seemed ever so much 
more fierce and cruel than Mary's captor had 
been. 




When thk Indians 

FELL. ON SACO. 



INDIANS FELL ON SACO 47 

It would be hard to tell how much better 
Mary felt on seeing some of her friends again, 
and she was even happy when she found from 
the young men that Farmer Garvin and his wife 
had escaped in safety to the garrison. '' Per- 
haps I shall see them again, after all," she 
thought. 

That hope helped her through the long, hard 
day, for the Indians were cruel indeed. One of 
them walked behind the party and whipped the 
children when they did not walk fast enough. 
Mary was stronger than Hannah or Daniel and 
could walk faster ; but she felt worse when they 
were whipped than when she was struck herself. 

The dreadful day came to an end at last ; the 
evening, however, brought even worse things. 
The Dyer children had told Mary that their 
mother and their older sister had started with 
the others, but the long walk had made them 
both so sick that the}^ could not keep on. The 
children had not seen their mother or sister 
since the night before, and supposed that the 
Indians had killed them. They were sure of it 
this evening and Mary was, too ; for they all 
knew only too well the scalps on which the 
Indians were working. 

So the fearful journey went on. When they 



48 LIFE IN THE COLONIES 

had been tramping for almost a month, the In- 
dians gave them another fright. Each prisoner 
was taken in charge by an Indian, and made to 
sit perfectly still. '' Now they are going to 
scalp us," thought Mary, and she almost fainted 
as an Indian walked up to her. But the Indian 
only combed her hair out straight, and then 
painted it black. He painted her face, too, with 
daubs of red, so that I doubt whether her own 
mother would have known her at first glance. 

All the other prisoners were painted, too, and 
the solemn little people who had not smiled for 
a month could hardly help laughing to see 
what good Indians they made. 

When they left camp the next morning, their 
way was no longer through the thick woods. 
They went across fields instead, and soon, far off 
upon a hill, they saw a farmhouse — the first 
house of any kind that they had seen for a 
month. 

'^ I wonder whether French or English people 
live there," said Rufus. 

''Oh, French, I suppose," his brother an- 
swered. " We must be pretty far north by this 
time, and in Canada somewhere. I don't be- 
lieve we are to go much farther." 

'' What do you suppose they will do with us 



INDIANS FELL ON SACO 49 

now? Must we be Indians always?" asked 
Mary. 

" No, I think they mean to sell us to the 
French, if they can. That will be better than 
living in wigwams, anyway." 

'* Perhaps so," answered Mary doubtfully, 
'' but it will be more lonesome than ever if we 
have to live in different places." 

" Of course it will at first, but I think we 
shall get back to Saco before very long." 

II 

William was partly right. The Indians did 
sell them that very afternoon, just as soon as 
they came to a little French village. Fright- 
ened as Mary was when she knew she must 
leave her companions, she could not help being 
interested to kno^v how much Whirling Wind 
would receive for her. She knew that the In- 
dians did not care very much for white men's 
money, but she was much surprised when she 
saw a man give Whirling Wind only three 
spools, a red blanket, and a hatchet with a very 
bright blade. 

'' My father would give ever so much more to 
buy me back," she thought, bitterly. But she 



50 lifp: in the colonies 

had no more time just then for thinking. 
Whirling Wind grunted, " Ugh ! ugh ! " as if he 
was much pleased at his bargain, and gave her a 
little push towards the man who had handed 
him the trinkets. 

Then for the first time Mary looked her new 
master in the face. It did not take her long to 
know that he was a kind man, even though she 
could not understand a word he was speaking, 
for his eyes said, *' How weary you look, little 
girl ! " All at once he took her up in his arms 
and carried her across the road to a comfortable 
looking sledge. He put her gently down on a 
buffalo robe in the bottom, and after rolling her 
up warm, he gave the patient oxen the word to 
start. 

Mary had not seen what had become of the 
other children, but somehow she felt sure that 
they were warm and contented like herself. 
She was so glad to leave the gruff and cruel In- 
dians and to feel the Frenchman's kindness, that, 
though she did not know who he was or where 
he was going, she forgot her troubles for a little 
while and slept all the rest of the way. 

When the sledge stopped, she woke with a 
start. She was in front of a large farmhouse 
that in some way looked familiar. '' Haven't 



INDIANS FELL ON SACO 51 

I been here before?" she asked herself in 
surprise. Then she remembered. It was the 
same farmhouse they had seen and talked about 
in the morning, and without knowing exactly 
why, Mary felt that she was glad to be there. 

Again she was lifted in the kind man's arms 
and carried this time to the house. Two chil- 
dren, a boy and girl about Mary's age, ran to 
open the door for their father, and they both 
looked in great surprise at their little visitor. 
The father spoke kindly to them, and Mary 
thought he was saying something about her. 
When the children's mother came in, she seemed 
to understand at once. Going up to Mary, she 
took the forlorn little stranger in her arms and 
kissed her tenderly. 

Such a welcome was too much for the little 
captive girl and she began to cry. To be in a 
house again, to see father and mother and chil- 
dren, — she could not have helped crying even if 
Whirling Wind had stood by with his tomahawk 
and said, '' No cry ! This kill ! " 

No one in the French family could speak 
English, but Mary did not need words to know 
that she had fallen among friends. The next 
morning, however, Mr. Le Blanc came into the 
kitchen with a neighbor who could speak Eng- 



52 LIFE IN THE COLONIES 

lish fairly well. Then Mary had a chance to 
tell all about herself and her cruel capture. 

'' The poor, poor child ! " thought the French 
father and mother, and the neighbor said very 
kindly, '' When the war is over, you shall go 
home again. Meantime, you must be happy 
here." 

And she was happy. Jean and Elise were the 
most delightful companions she had ever known, 
and in a little while she had learned to speak 
their language and to play their games. 

She found, too, that not all the northern In- 
dians were like the wicked man who had stolen 
her from her father and mother. There were 
kind-hearted Indians in Canada, as there had 
been in New England, and some of them she 
saw very often. There was one tall, handsome 
Indian who came often to the house and whom 
the children were always glad to see. His name 
pleased them, too. In English it means *' Keeps- 
the-Spotted-Ponies." 

Keeps-the-Spotted-Ponies had once lived far- 
ther west and he knew a great many wonder- 
ful stories that his old grandmother had told 
him. Every day that winter, when it w^as snow- 
ing and bloAving hard, the children would won- 
der whether Keeps-the-Spotted-Ponies would not 



INDIANS FELL ON SACO 53 

come before night. They were not often disap- 
pointed, for in such weather the lonely Indian 
did not like his cheerless wigwam. He would 
rather sit in front of the crackling fire in the 
farmhouse, and tell stories of things that had 
happened so far in the past that nobody had any 
idea how long ago it was. 

The children liked best of all the story of the 
arbutus, and I have decided to tell it to you 
here. Only I must write it in English, for you 
could not understand it as Keeps-the-Spotted- 
Ponies told it to Mary and Jean and Elise. 

Ill 

THE LEGEND OF THE ARBUTUS 

There was once an old, old man Avith long 
white locks. His wife and children were all 
dead, and he lived alone in his wigwam. Now 
the season of ice and snow had come, and it Avas 
growing colder every day. Usually he delighted 
in the cold, and never before had the days been 
too sharp or bitter. But now even his thick 
wolfskin could not keep him warm, and no- 
where could he find fagots for a fire. 

" Shall the Great Manito die?" he Avondered 
sadly, and in despair he prayed the Great Spirit 
that he might not perish. 



54 LIFE IN THE COLOXIES 

But the cold grew still more bitter. Manito 
shivered as the icy wind blew back his bearskin 
door. Now, however, the strangest thing hap- 
pened that could be imagined. Into the wig- 
wam walked a lovely maiden, lovelier than the 
fairest of Manito's daughters had been ; and as 
she stepped inside, the air of the wigwam grew 
mild and fragrant. 

For a minute Manito could not speak ; he 
could only look and wonder. " Her hair is 
black as a crow's wing," he thought ; and, as she 
walked slowly towards him, he saw that it was 
so long that it swept the ground behind. " How 
pink her cheeks are ! " he said to himself 
" They are the color of the wild roses. And her 
eyes ! A fawn's at night could not be brighter." 

But where did the delicious odor come from? 
He had seen the crown of flowers on the 
maiden's head, and the willow buds in her hand. 
Now he looked more closely, and found that her 
dress was woven of sweet grass and that instead 
of moccasins she had white lilies on her feet. 

At last he found his voice. " Thou art wel- 
come, lovely maiden," said the old man ; and 
then he forgot his trouble and began to tell the 
stranger what a mighty chief he was. 

" When I walk abroad," he said, '' the brooks 
and the rivers stand still to listen." 



INDIANS FELL ON SACO 55 

" But I have only to smile," the maiden an- 
swered, '' and flowers cover the cold earth and 
lift up their little heads to smile back at me." 

'' I shake my locks," said the chief, '' and the 
wind knows that I am angry. It shrieks to the 
squirrel and to the blind little mole to hide 
themselves in the earth. It tells the robin and 
the bluebird to fly far away to the south where 
great Manito will not find them." 

''Great is Manito," spoke the maiden, "but 
he is cruel. I am great, too, but gentler." 

In an instant the proud chieftain's power was 
gone. His eyes closed and he could feel him- 
self grow smaller. In a little while he lay fast 
asleep on the wigwam floor, not much larger 
than the ordinary Indian. Streams of warm 
water came out of his mouth, and his fur gar- 
ments turned to bright green leaves. 

Then the maiden put her hand into the folds 
of her dress and drew out some beautiful rose- 
white flowers. Kneeling down, she tenderly 
hid the pink blossoms beneath the thick green 
leaves ; and when she had finished, the wigwam 
was full of a new fragrance, though not a flower 
peeped out from its green bed. Still they could 
hear the maiden when she whispered softly, 
''Be good, little flowers. You shall tell the 



56 LIFE IN THE COLONIES 

world that the long, cold winter is past and that 
the breath of summer is in the breeze." 

Then the maiden walked away ; and as she 
walked, myriads of the rose-white flowers sprang 
up out of the ground and nestled softly among 
the leaves. And to-day we know exactly where 
she stepped ; for there, and nowhere else, the 
arbutus blooms. 

So the winter melted into the spring, and the 
spring warmed into the summer. Then came 
the clear, crisp days and sharp nights of the 
autumn, and by the time the long, cold winter 
had fairly come again, Mary had forgotten a 
good deal of her English and had ceased to 
think so much about her father and mother. 

One year followed another, and still the cruel 
war went on. There was no chance for Mary 
to get home for eleven long years, and by that 
time she cared much less about going back. 
For she had grown into a beautiful Avoman, and 
had married Jean, the little boy who had opened 
the door for her that winter night. When the 
war was ended, she had a lovely little girl, who 
looked like her and was named for her. Only 
the name was spelled M-a-r-i-e to show that it 
was French. 



INDIANS FELL ON SACO 57 



IV 



From the fort near Saco the evening gun had 
sounded. It was a damp and gusty night ; the 
wind was blowing strong from the east, and in 
the darkness the river Saco roared more loudly 
and fiercely than ever. 

" Ou the hearth of Farmer Garvin, blazed the crackling 
walnut log ; 
Eight and left sat dame and goodman, and between 
them lay the dog, 

Head on paws, and tail slow wagging, and beside him 

on her mat, 
Sitting drowsy in the firelight, winked and purred the 

mottled cat. 

* Twenty years ! ' said Goodman Garvin, speaking sadly, 

under breath, 
And his gray head slowly shaking, as one who speaks 
of death. 

The goodwife dropped her needles : ' It is twenty 

years to-day, 
Since the Indians fell on Saco, and stole our child 

away.' " 

They did not speak again for some time, but 
each knew what the other was thinking about. 



1 



58 LIFE IN THE COLONIES 

Suddenly there came a loud knock ; and when 
Goodman Garvin had opened the door, he saw 
two strangers, a man and a young girl. 

"Does Elkanah Garvin live here?" the man 
asked politely. 

'' I am Elkanah Garvin," answered the farmer ; 
and without stopping to ask the names of the 
travelers, he invited them cordially to come in. 
Then Good wife Garvin, remembering the rain 
and wind outside, drew up the settle, and urged 
them to sit down in front of the fire. They 
did so gladly, and began to unfasten their wet 
clothes. As the maiden unclasped the hood of 
her cloak, the fire for the first time lighted up 
her features. 

^'Dame Garvin looked upon her : 'It is Mary's self I 
see ! 
Dear heart ! ' she cried, ' now tell me, has my child 
come back to me 1 ' 

'My name indeed is Mary,' said the stranger, sob- 
bing wild ; 

* Will you be to me a mother ? I am Mary Garvin's 
child ! 

' She sleeps by wooded Simcoe, but on her dying day 
She bade my father take me to her kinsfolk far I 

away. ' 



INDIANS FELL ON SACO 59 

' And when the priest besought her to do me no such 
wrong, 
She said, ' ' May God forgive me ! I have closed my 
heart too long. 

' ' When I hid me from mj^ father, and shut out my 
mother's call, 
I sinned against those dear ones, and the Father of us 
alL'" 

' God be praised ! ' said Goodwife Garvin, ' He taketh 
and He gives 5 
He woundeth, but He healeth ; in her child our 
daughter lives ! ' 

' Amen ! ' the old man answered, as he brushed a tear 

away. 
And, kneeling by his hearthstone, said, with rever- 
ence, ' Let us pray. ' ' ' 

But it seemed to the Garvin s that they ought 
to thank God in public for the happiness He 
had sent them in their old age ; so, when the 
horn sounded on the next Sabbath morning, 
Goodman and Goodwife Garvin took Marie to 
the meeting-house, where every one could see 
her and be glad with them. 

"From the pulpit read the preacher, 'Goodman Garvin 
and his wife 
Fain would thank the Lord, whose kindness has fol- 
lowed them through life, 



60 LIFE IN THE COLONIES 

' For the great and crowning mercy, that their daugh- 
ter, from the wild, 
Where she rests (they hope in God' s peace), has sent to 
them her child ; 

' And the prayers of all God's people they ask, that 

they may prove 
Not unworthy, through their weakness, of such special 
proof of love. ' ' 



Learn : — 

What the Sun told the Indians 

O my children, 
Love is sunshine, hate is shadow, 
Life is checkered shade and sunshine, 



Rule by love, O Hiawatha ! 

— Henry Wadsworth Longfelloic. 



CANDLE-MAKING AT THE COOLIDGES' 



Not since the Coolidge family came to New 
England had Mistress Coolidge been able to 
make any candles. The colonists had owned so 
few cattle and sheep during the first few years 
after they came to their new home that, even 
w^ith the deer fat and the bear grease, there had 
not been enough material for candle-making. 

One day during the fall when Patience Cool- 
idge was seven years old, her mother said, 
'' There will be tallow enough for candles this 
year. Our home shall be lighted in the same 
way as Governor Winthrop's, though methinks 
not so brightly." 

The little girl's face broke into a radiant 
smile. Once upon a time, when she went to town, 
she had seen the beautiful candlesticks at the 
Governor's house with snowy white candles in 
them ; but she had never seen any candles 
lighted. To think of being like the great Gov- 
ernor Winthrop ! 

61 



62 LIFE IN THE COLONIES 

Patience tilted her dimpled chin a trifle 
higher, bat she dared not say anything. Only 
the Sabbath before, when she said that her shoes 
were not so pretty as Anne Howland's, her grand- 
mother had replied very severely, '' Pride goeth 
before destruction ; and a haughty spirit before 
a fall." 

All the light that Patience had ever seen after 
sunset in the great square room which served as 
the Coolidges' kitchen and dining-room and 
living-room, came from the burning of a big, 
sticky pine knot. This knot, called candle-wood, 
was placed on a flat stone in a corner of the fire- 
place. It was really necessary to tuck it away 
in such a fashion, because the smoke must go 
up the chimney, and because the dirty, pitchy 
droppings, — which were really tar, — must run 
where they would be burned up and do no harm 
in the clean room. 

The burning knot made the room bright and 
cheery ; but it did not give light enough to 
make reading easy. Patience, too, very much 
regretted that the candle-wood could not be 
carried to another room. But then she was 
small and was still a little afraid of dark halls 
and black places behind doors. 

It was a clear, cold night in November when 



CANDLE-MAKING 63 

Mistress Coolidge said, '' To-morrow I must dip 
the candles." 

Patience had been hoping for a week that the 
next day was to be the great day of the candle- 
making. When her mother spoke, she closed 
her eyes and tried to imagine how the room 
would seem with a lighted candle on the table. 
Would there be enough light so that across the 
room she could see the face on her grand- 
mother's large cameo breastpin ? 

Patience did not have to wait until morning 
to see the candle-making begin. That evening 
her mother made the wicks ready. She stuck 
an old iron fork upright in the kitchen table 
about eight inches from the edge, and threw 
around it half a dozen loops of the soft tow- 
string, which she called wicking. By cutting 
these loops at the edge of the table, she made 
six wicks of the same length. 

^' Six, twelve, eighteen," she counted, until at 
last she had laid out twenty-five dozen. '' That 
is all we may have for this year's supply," she 
said with regret. But Patience thought it could 
not be that Governor Winthrop had many more. 

After Patience had gone to bed, Mistress 
Coolidge continued to work. She took the 
wicks one at a time from the basket into wdiich 



64 LIFE IN THE COLONIES 

she had tossed them, twisted each tightly, 
doubled it, and slipped through the loop a 
candle rod, — a stick not much thicker than a 
lead pencil but about three times as long. The 
twisted ends, as soon as Mistress Coolidge released 
her hold upon them, untwisted a little and rolled 
themselves together in a good firm wick. 

When six wicks dangled by their looped ends 
from one candle rod, she began on another rod 
and so made each one ready for the dipping. 
When Patience saw the limp little wicks in the 
morning she thought they looked like stockings 
on a clothes-line. 

That morning, as soon as breakfast was over, 
Mistress Coolidge said to her two tall sons, 
'' Now a brisk fire, boys, and the two big iron 
kettles from the shed. You will find the tallow 
in them." 

When the kettles were swung on heavy iron 
hooks in the fireplace, the boys brought in a 
pair of long poles. Mistress Coolidge tipped 
down two straight-backed chairs and directed 
the boys to place the poles across them, forming 
something like a ladder without any rounds. 

'^ The candle rods next, boys," she directed, 
and then she added, as Jonathan brought these 
out and she began to place them like rounds 



1 



CANDLE-MAKING 65 

across the sides of the ladder, '' It was well to 
make these ready last night. The candle-dip- 
ping will take all the morning." 

II 

The candle rods were soon in place. Then 
the boys laid boards beneath the rods to keep 
any greasy drippings from the floor ; and at last 
they took one of the big kettles half full of 
melted tallow from the fire and set it on the 
broad hearth. 

'' Now she is going to begin to dip," thought 
Patience ; but, no, her mother took a pail and 
poured boiling water into the kettle until it was 
full. 

" Oh, the tallow is spoiled ! " cried the little 
girl in real distress. 

Her mother did not seem troubled. ^' Ask 
thy grandmother, she will tell thee. I cannot 
stop now," she said briefly. 

'' Where was the fat of the soup we had yes- 
terday ? " asked Patience's grandmother when 
the little girl had crossed the room to her. 

'' On top," said Patience, and a smile broke 
over her face. 

" And that is where the tallow is ; where thy 



66 LIFE IN THE COLONIES 

mother needs it that the wicks may reach it 
easily. Is not the fat on the top of the water 
deeper than the wicks are long? Do not be 
troubled ; by and by she must pour in more 
water to keep the tallow ever at the top of the 
kettle." 

All ready at last? No, not even yet. The 
kitchen had to be cooled so that the candles 
might harden well. Then at last everything 
was really ready, and Mistress Coolidge took up 
the first candle rod and skilfully dipped the six 
Avicks into the hot tallow. 

When they came out, Patience had another 
disappointment. There were six greasy strings 
hanging on the rod, not in the least like the 
beautiful round w^hite candles she had seen in 
the Governor's mansion. 

Her mother straightened some of the wicks, 
then dipped another rod and then another, until 
they all had been dipped once. Then she took 
up the first rod once more. 

" There goes the first round of the ladder 
again ! " thought Patience. 

A little more tallow stuck this time and Pa- 
tience gave a small sigh of satisfaction ; but she 
could not keep from asking her grandmother, 
" Will they ever be candles? " 




Patience seks the Candles made. 



CANDLE-MAKING 67 

^' Let patience have her perfect work," quoted 
her grandmother, as she had a hundred times 
before. 

It took a long time to dip all the rods and 
come back again to the first, but after a while 
the first had been dipped and dipped until it 
had grown to be as large as a lead pencil. 

'' Why does she not keep them in the tallow 
longer, that they may grow faster?" Patience 
quietly asked her grandmother, for her mother 
was working too busily to be interrupted. 

'* Why should she melt off all the tallow that 
is on the wicks?" her grandmother asked in 
return. " That is what would surely happen if 
she were to hold the wicks long in that hot ket- 
tle. The hot tallow will stick to the cool candle 
like cream to thy finger ; but the little candles 
would become tow strings again if they re- 
mained long in so hot a place." 

After a time the second kettle was taken from 
its hook in the fireplace and the first was hung 
up with fresh tallow to melt. So the kettles 
were used in turn until at last the candles were 
done. Patience had well deserved her name be- 
fore the twenty-five dozen completed candles 
hung and swung on the rods across the long 
poles. 



68 LIFE IN THE COLONIES 

'' Now they will all be ready to carry to the 
garret to bleach as soon as they are hard and 
cold," said Mistress Coolidge with relief. 

'' O mother, not all ! " cried Patience. " One, 
you know, you said we would light to-night." 

'' You are right, little daughter. Choose your 
candle and make ready your grandmother's 
brass candlestick. Polish it bright and bring 
out the snuffer tray and snuffers. To-night you 
shall see what candle-light is like." 

What a delight it was to rub the old candle- 
stick until it shone, and to fit the new candle into 
the socket so carefully that it would stand just 
straight. In the evening, when the candle was 
lighted, Patience could not see the face on the 
cameo pin as she had expected, but what of 
that ! All she had to do was to carry the can- 
dle across the room and hold it in front of her 
grandmother in order to see every line of the 
beautiful carved face. Best of all, however, she 
had the candle when she went to bed, so that 
she knew positively there was not a single creepy 
thing behind the door. 

Learn :- 
How far that little candle throws his beams ! 
So shiues a good deed iu a naughty world. 

— Shakespeare. 



TELLING TIME WITHOUT A CLOCK 



'' Now we are ready to start ! " said Mistress 
Biddle cheerily, as her husband led the horse to 
the horse block on which she stood. '' But let 
us know first what time in the morning it is." 

Mr. Biddle did not take out his watch nor 
did William or Edward, who were waiting to 
see their father and mother depart, go to look at 
a clock. The fact is, there was not a watch or a 
clock to be found on the great Biddle estate. 
Instead, William went to look at the top of a 
square stone post and came back to say that it 
was nearly six o'clock. 

'' When the chores are done, you may both 
play until noon," said Mistress Biddle, with a 
smile. " Be good boys. Do just as Hannah bids 
you. We shall be back by dinner time day 
after to-morrow." 

Then she stepped from the block to her place 
on the sleek black horse, and turned to say 
good-bye as the impatient animal cantered away 
with his double burden. 

69 



70 LIFE IN THE COLONIES 

There was not a train or an electric car, not 
even a stage-coach, to take Mr. and Mistress Bid- 
die to Philadelphia. They must go in their 
own carriage or on horseback ; and as the roads 
were very poor two hundred years ago, people 
usually chose to go on horseback. 

This morning, because the other horses were 
needed for the farm work, both Mr. and Mis- 
tress Biddle rode on the same horse. 

Strange as it w^ould seem to-day, it was not 
strange to William and Edward to see their 
father in the saddle and their mother on the 
pillion, or cushion, placed behind the saddle. 
Women rode that way so often that it seemed as 
natural as it does to-day to see a little girl riding 
a bicycle. 

The little boys watched until the travelers 
were out of sight, then started for the barn to 
finish the chores. On their way they peeped 
into the kitchen to make sure that Hannah was 
there, — for when their mother was away it was 
not so lonesome if they knew just where Han- 
nah could be found. Hannah was ironing and 
happened to be standing on some of the noon 
marks. William noticed this and it suggested a 
delightful plan to him. 

" Edward ! " he exclaimed, '\why not make 



TELLING TIME 71 

some noon marks on the barn floor ? Then we 
should know when it is dinner time, and Han- 
nah would not have to blow the horn." 

Edward agreed. He was only six and he 
found most of William's plans very attractive. 

'' When the chores are done, we'll make the 
marks," said William eagerly. 

Accordingly, when their promised play-time 
came, they set to work on the marks. They 
opened wide the big barn doors so that the sun 
shone in almost half-way across the barn floor. 

''Shall we make a mark there?" asked Ed- 
ward, pointing to the spot where the sunlight 
stopped. 

" Oh, no, it is not much after eight. We want 
our mark just where the sun reaches at noon. 
Do you see ? " 

Edward understood, but it was plain that he 
did not think it great fun to wait until noon 
and then cut a single mark in the barn floor. 
He was turning away to find some other play, 
when William said coaxingly, " I'll tell you 
what we can do. We'll measure the marks on 
the kitchen floor and make them just the same 
down here ; then as soon as that is done we'll 
play Indians ! " 

This plan pleased Edward and they ran to 



72 LIFE IN THE COLONIES 

the house. Hannah was busy cooking in the 
buttery, and so did not see the little boys toiling 
over the measurements. She might have saved 
them some play-time if she had known what 
they were about. 

When the boys returned to the barn, they 
very carefully measured straight back from the 
door-sill and made a mark at just the same dis- 
tance from the sill as was the mark in the 
kitchen. This was the midsummer mark, for 
the sun is so high at noon in midsummer that 
it can shine in only a little way. The next 
mark was a little farther from the door, and 
the next a little farther still, until the mid- 
winter mark was made the farthest back of all, 
because, in midwinter, the sun is so low at noon 
that it can shine into a building for some 
distance. 

At last the boys finished the marks and could 
begin to play Indians. It seemed as if they 
had been playing about five minutes Avhen the 
dinner horn sounded. In surprise they looked 
at the noon mark. It was not noon according 
to that ; but as it would not do to risk losing 
dinner, they scampered to the house. It was just 
noon by the kitchen mark ! What could be the 
matter with the marks in the barn? 



TELLING TIME 73 

The boys told Hannah of their perplexity, 
for Hannah was too kindly ever to laugh at a 
boy's questions. 

'* I think I know what the trouble is," she 
said. " The barn door is higher than the 
kitchen door, so that the sunshine can reach in 
farther at the same time of day." 

William understood. " I shall have to make 
a whole new set," he said thoughtfully. 

'' Yes, you will," replied Hannah, '' but it 
won't be hard. You can make one mark a day, 
just at noontime by the sundial." 

That was like Hannah ; she always helped 
when she could. William saw that he should 
only have to watch the sundial, and when it 
was noon, to run as fast as he could to mark 
that spot on the floor which the sun reached. 

" To-morrow is midsummer's day," said Han- 
nah, '' a good day to make your first mark." 

It did not prove, however, to be a good day, 
for it rained from the time the boys got up until 
they went to bed. The sundial was of no use 
without the sun ; and the noon marks on the 
kitchen floor were no better. So there was 
nothing by which to tell time except the hour- 
glass. The boys turned that several times to 
help the day go faster, and they made some 



74 LIFE IN THE COLONIES 

wooden knives to use in the Indian attack they 
would have the next day if it should be pleas- 
ant ; but it was a long, dreary day and they 
were not sorry when bedtime came. 

II 

The day on which Mr. and Mistress Biddle 
were to come home was warm and sunny. The 
boys did their chores early and had an exciting 
Indian game. Then, as they knew William 
was to have some new Ozenbridge trousers and 
Edward a new waistcoat — and as there might be 
some surprise from Grandmother Biddle — the 
two boys began to feel impatient to see their 
father and mother riding up the long, straight 
road that stretched toward Philadelphia. 

^' There will not be a spear of grass left be- 
tween the kitchen door and the sundial ! " 
laughed Hannah, as the boys ran for the fifth 
or sixth time in an hour to see what time it 
was. 

'' You would better stay next time long 
enough to teach Edward how to tell the time of 
day, and then you can take turns running to 
look at the dial." 

" Come ! " cried William, and off they raced 
to the dial. 




Telling Time with the Sundial. 



TELLING TIME 75 

Edward looked very wise while William told 
the time, declaring it almost eleven. 

'' Almost eleven," repeated Edward. '^ How 
do you know ? " 

William was very ready to tell. '' I will show 
you," he said. 

Edward looked hard at the metal plate about 
a foot square, which he knew was called the 
dial-plate. This was fastened firmly to the top 
of a stone post, about four feet high, b}^ which 
the boys were standing. The figures which Ed- 
ward saw along the edges of the plate were 
like the figures on the face of a clock, but they 
formed a square instead of a circle as they do 
on clocks and watches. Edward could not see 
anything to tell him it was eleven o'clock. 

'' You look and see where the shadow falls, 
and that tells you what time it is," said William, 
impressively. 

That was not much help to poor little Ed- 
ward. '' What shadow ? " he puzzled. 

'' Why, this one," answered William, pointing 
to a shadow formed by a piece of metal that 
stood up almost in the middle of the plate. 

Edward had often wondered why that piece 
of iron was standing on the dial ; but if there 
must be a shadow, why, it might as well come 



76 LIFE IX THE COLONIES 

from that ugly old right triangle as from any- 
thing else. 

*' See, the shadow from the down-hill side of 
the triangle lies close to the line that runs from 
the bottom of the hill to the figure XI." 

Edward nodded. 

''That says it is eleven o'clock," continued 
the older brother. 

Edward nodded more solemnly. 

" And when the shadow from that same side 
of the gnomon " 

*' The what? " interrupted Edward. 

'' The gnomon, the triangle," answered Will- 
iam. '' When the shadow lies close to the line 
that runs out to XII, why, then it is noon. Do 
you see? " 

Edward was sure that he did. 

'' If the shadow is half-way between the two 
lines, it is half-past eleven, you see," went on 
William. 

Edward agreed, but his eyes were fixed on an 
object moving far down the road. '' They are 
coming ! " he shouted. 

True enough, they were coming — almost an 
hour before Mistress Biddle had said they would 
arrive. 

Soon the boys were eagerly eyeing the pack- 



TELLING TIME 77 

ages that were taken from the saddle-bags. 
There was a soft bundle that might contain the 
trousers and the waistcoat, and there was a hard 
one that might hold a surprise. The boys were 
wrong, however ; the soft bundle contained the 
surprises. There was a lace collar for each boy, 
a present from his grandmother. 

''I saw one thing at your grandmother's,'' 
said Mistress Biddle, as she put away her pur- 
chases, ''that pleased me greatly. Indeed, I 
hope we may have one here before very long. 
It is a machine for telling time,— a clock, they 
call it. Your grandmother has just had one 
brought over from England. It stands in the 
corner of the room and is taller than William. 
Think of it, William, the clock tells time both 
day and night ! " 

His mother's story reminded William to tell 
about the noon marks he was planning to make 
on the barn floor. Edward was also reminded 
of what he had learned, and the little lad 
proudly explained to his mother that he could 
tell time by the sundial. 

'' I am glad to hear both pieces of news," she 
said, smiling at the boys. '' Wliat time is it 
now, Edward ? " 

Edward quickly ran out to the sundial. It 



78 LIFE IN THE COLONIES 

was not eleven ; it was not half-past eleven. 
What time was it? 

He went back ruefully. '^ It is almost ex- 
actly some time, but it is not eleven and " 

William laughed. '' I forgot to teach him 
the figures. We did not have time before you 
came." 

" That gives you something to do in play- 
time to-morrow," said his mother. " If you 
know those figures it will be easy for you to 
tell time by your grandmother's clock when 
you go to Philadelphia, as your father and I 
are planning that you both shall do before the 
summer is over ; but now it must be time for 
William to run to the barn to cut his first noon 
mark." 

Learn : — 

My days are as a shadow, and there is noue abidiog. 

— On the sundial in the yard of a Friends' Meeting 
Mouse, Gennantotvnj Pennsylvania. 



TWO LETTERS OF LONG AGO 



Many years ago two little sisters, Mary and 
Christina Grafton, lived in the town of Wil- 
mington, in Delaware. Their grandparents had 
come from Sweden a long time before, and Mary 
and Christina liked to think of the land across 
the sea about which they had heard so much. 
They liked sometimes to remember that they 
had the blue eyes and the flaxen hair of little 
Swede girls, but still better they liked to think 
they were Americans. 

Even in those early days, the children of the 
colonies had learned to love their own country 
best of all. They had not so much to be proud 
of as we have, perhaps. They had not so much 
to make life easy, either. There Avere no rail- 
roads, no trolley-cars, no telegraphs or tele- 
phones. No one knew very much about what 
was happening to those friends who lived at a 
distance. 

People could write letters, to be sure, but it 
took a number of weeks sometimes for the mail- 

79 



80 LIFE m THE COLONIES 

carrier to ride on horseback from one colony to 
another. Yet, although people did not know 
much about the rest of the world, they were 
just as good, just as brave, just as honest, as men 
and women are now. So Mary and Christina 
were very happy little girls. 

But there was one reason why these children 
did not have the good times that the boys and 
girls of the northern colonies enjoyed. There 
were few schools in Delaware, and there were 
none like those to which Dorothy and Richard 
and Nathaniel used to go. Many people in the 
south did not care whether their children 
learned anything or not ; but Mr. and Mrs. 
Grafton were anxious to have their little girls 
grow into wise and useful women. 

So, by the time Mary was twelve, her mother 
had taught her to read and write pretty well. 
Christina, however, could read and write only 
the easiest words. But then, Christina was four 
years younger than Mary. 

About this time Mr. Grafton went up to Phila- 
delphia on a visit to his sister, the children's 
Aunt Sally. After he came home, Mary and 
Christina kept hearing bits of talk that they 
could not understand at all. Something was 
going to happen, they felt sure. 



I 



LETTERS OF LONG AGO 81 

" It's about us, I know," whispered Christina 
after they had gone to bed one night. *' I heard 
mother say to-day, ' It may be best for Mary, 
but Christina is too small.' What do you sup- 
pose she meant ? " 

'' I'm sure I can't guess," Mary whispered 
back, " but I think Aunt Sally has something to 
do with it." 

Sure enough. Aunt Sally had something to do 
with it. The next day the children understood. 

'' Mary," asked her father at breakfast, ''how 
much can you read ? " 

" I can read everything in the New England 
Primer, sir," answered Mary, a little proudly. 

" And can you cipher? " 

''No, sir, not at all." 

" Your Aunt Sally has a plan, Mary, that we 
like very much. She is to have a little school 
at her house, and she has asked you to live with 
her for a while and study with her girls and 
boys. The teacher is to be a young man from 
Harvard College, and you will learn much more 
from him than your mother or I could teach 
you. Of course we do not like to send you 
from home, but we have agreed to Aunt Sally's 
plan." 

Mary hardly knew how to reply. " I am to 



82 LIFE IN THE COLONIES 

go to Philadelphia — alone — and to school ? " she 
said at last. 

'' Yes, child," said her mother. '' Shall you 
like it, do you think ? " 

" Why, mother, I don't know," answered 
Mary, soberly. '' I like to stud}^, and I shall 
like to be with Aunt Sally and my cousins, but 
I don't want to go away." 

Christina was sure that she did not like the 
plan. '' We need Mary here," she said. 

'' Yes, we do," replied Mrs. Grafton. '' But I 
shall have more time to teach you after Maiy 
goes. If you work hard, perhaps you can write 
Avell enough to send Mary a letter pretty soon." 

'' Oh, I shall like that, Christina! " said Mary. 
'' It will be almost like seeing you." 

Christina was pleased, too, for she had not 
thought of such a thing. Now those of you 
who are eight years old have probably written 
more than one letter to your father or mother 
or teacher long before this, but you must not 
forget how few letters were written, even by the 
grown people, in those days. Postage cost so 
much that most children could not send letters 
when they wanted to, even if they knew how to 
write. 



LETTERS OF LONG AGO 83 



II 



''How soon am I to go, mother?" was the 
next question. 

'' Just as soon as your clothes are ready, 
Mary." 

Mrs. Grafton did not say next, " I shall go to 
the store to-day to buy the cloth for your 
dresses." Instead, she said to her husband, 
'' Will you get some wool for me this morning, 
so that I can begin to card it ? " 

Mary well knew what " carding " was. Her 
mother intended to get the wool ready to spin 
into woolen yarn on the big spinning-wheel. 
Then she would weave the yarn, and the cloth 
would be all ready for cutting and sewing. 

After two gray homespun dresses had been 
finished, Mrs. Grafton made all the linen cloth- 
ing that Mary would need. This time she used 
the small spinning-wheel, because, for this 
thread, she spun flax instead of wool. Then 
there were stockings to be knit, and so many 
other things to do besides, that it was several 
weeks before the haircloth trunk could be 
packed and strapped. 

Finally, one bright spring morning, when the 
grass was green and the trees pink and white 



84 LIFE IN THE COLONIES 

with blossoms, Mary started for Aunt Sally's. 
Her new homespun dress was very long and full, 
and she wore so large a bonnet that one could 
hardly see the little face within. 

'^ What a funny little old woman ! " we might 
say to-day ; but the captain of the little packet 
that was to carry Mary up to Philadelphia said 
to himself, " That's the prettiest little passenger 
I've had for many a day." 

When Christina could no longer see Mary's 
handkerchief fluttering a good-bye, she turned 
to her mother a very sober little face, and asked, 
'' When shall we have a letter from Mary, do 
you think ? " 

" By the next post, I am sure. That will be 
here in a few days. We ought to be very thank- 
ful, Christina, that we are so near Philadelphia. 
If we lived out in a mountain town of Pennsyl- 
vania, or back on a Virginia plantation, or as far 
south as the Carolinas, it might be a month or 
more before Ave should hear from Mary." 

Christina was not quite so thankful as her 
mother, perhaps ; for she said, '' But if we lived 
so far as that from Philadelphia, Mary couldn't 
have gone at all, could she, mother? " 

" No, Christina, it would not have been safe 
to send her on so long a journey. But both you 



LETTERS OF LONG AGO 85 

and she will be glad some time that she had this 
chance to go to school." 



Ill 



The days after Mary went away were strange 
ones for Christina, but she was such a busy lit- 
tle girl that she did not have time to be lonely. 
Every morning she was up early, and after 
breakfast she would help her mother wash the 
dishes and smooth the great, fluffy feather beds. 
Then, when her housework was done, and while 
her mother swept or cooked, Christina did her 
^' stent " : that is, her mother gave her just so 
much sewing to do every day, and she was not 
allowed to stop until she had finished the set 
task. 

In the afternoon, when the dinner dishes were 
done, and Mrs. Grafton was sewing or spinning, 
Christina read her lessons from the New Eng- 
land Primer and wrote the copies that her 
mother had set. 

One morning, almost a week after Mary went 
away, Mr. Grafton came, in, saying, '' Come, 
Christina, get your bonnet on. The post has 
just come from Philadelphia, and perhaps there 
is something for us." It was not long before 



86 LIFE IN THE COLONIES 

Christina and her father were walking towards 
neighbor Anderson's inn, where all the town 
mail was left. 

" Yes," said Mr. Anderson in answer to Mr. 
Grafton's question, " here is a letter. Per- 
chance," he added knowingly, '' it is from thy 
daughter Mary, for it hath come from Philadel- 
phia." Letters came so seldom in^those days 
that every one was interested in them. 

'' Yes, this is surely from Mary," said Mr. 
Grafton, speaking, however, to Christina rather 
than to Mr. Anderson. " Let us go home to 
read it." 

It seemed a long time to Christina before she 
saw that letter. She said not a word as she 
w^aited for her mother to read it carefully and 
then pass it to Mr. Grafton. She was a well-be- 
haved child, and never teased, no matter how 
eager she was. 

At last her father said, " Now% little girl, it is 
your turn. You may read Mary's letter aloud." 
It was hard for Christina to make out some of 
the w^ords. It wall be harder for you, because 
little girls then did not speak just as they do 
now. Would you like to read Mary's letter ? 

Here it is : — 



LETTERS OF LONG AGO 87 

Philadelphia, May 1, 1743. 
Honoured Father & Mother : 

I take my pen in hand to let you know 
that I came safely three days ago to Philadelphia. 
Aunt Sally and Uncle William were at the 
wharf, for they thought that Captain Gerry 
would leave Wilmington that morning. When 
we came into the house, all my cousins were 
waiting in the hall. The girls courtesied & the 
boys bowed & they all said they were glad to see 
me. Aunt Sally has made a schoolroom out of a 
large front-chamber, & every morning at 8 o'clock 
we all go up there to study. Benjamin has be- 
gun Greek, & Harriet & I had a lesson in History 
to-day. I am to learn to cipher, & I shall have 
a lesson in Reading & Spelling every day. Aunt 
Sally is kind to me, & I try to obey her in all 
things. She teaches us all to sing, & is to give 
the girls lessons in sewing. I miss you all, but 
I am not lonesome. I am trying to be polite to 
ever3^body & to learn how to conduct myself in 
company. I have not so many dresses as my 
cousins & at first I was cross about it. But 
Aunt Sally has made me see how much better 
it is to be kind and courteous than to be finely 
dressed, & I am glad to write that I have no 
more vain thoughts. Believe, my dear parents, 
that I shall try to be an honour & a pride to you. 

Very respectfully, 
Mary Grafton. 



88 LIFE IN THE COLONIES 



IV 



At last the day came when Mrs. Grafton said, 
" Suppose, Christina, that you write to Mary this 
afternoon. I have not written to her for three 
w^eeks, and besides, Mr. Wilson is going to Phila- 
delphia to-morrow and he will take the letter for 
us. It would be a pity not to have some- 
thing read}^ for we must save postage when we 
can." 

Christina had been waiting for this permis- 
sion. She answered, '' I am all ready, mother. 
May I sit at the secretary? " 

'' That will be easiest for you, I think. Let 
me put a box on the chair first." 

Then Christina climbed into her seat. ^' May 
I have a sheet of this foolscap, mother? " 

'' Not right away, Christina. You must make 
your first draft on something that does not cost 
so much. This will do, I think," and her 
mother gave her a leaf from an old account 
book. 

Then Christina was all ready to begin. One 
corner of the desk-lid held a bottle of ink which 
Mrs. Grafton had made from oat galls and vine- 
gar, and near by were two or three goose quills. 
Can you guess what the goose quills were for ? 




Chkistina writing hek Letter. 



I 



LETTERS OF LONG AGO 89 

The steel pens we have to-day were not known 
so long ago. The hard part of a goose's quill 
was sharpened and used for a pen. Some people 
who like old-fashioned things write with goose 
quills now. 

Mrs. Grafton told Christina how the place and 
date should be written, and showed her the 
heading of Mary's letter. Then Christina was 
puzzled. '^ Now, mother," she said, " how shall 
I begin it ? Mary wrote ' I take my pen in 
hand.' " 

" Yes, that is one way," answered Mrs. Graf- 
ton. " Here is another : ' I now sit down to 
answer your welcome letter.' " 

*' That will be just right," said Christina, " for 
it is an answer, you know." 

Now neither of these beginnings is much like 
a letter of to-day, but if the old-fashioned letters 
sound a little prim to us, our letters might seem 
almost rude to the old-time writers. 

Christina needed help more than once before 
all the sentences were finished ; but when the 
letter was finally copied on the large, clean 
foolscap, not one word was spelled wrong, and 
there was not a blot on the paper. 

'' I could not make it look neater myself," 
said Mrs. Grafton kindly, as she passed it back. 



90 LIFE IN THE COLONIES 

. Christina's eyes beamed with pleasure, but she 
said simply, " The ink is not yet quite dry, is it, 
mother? I suppose I must not fold it yet." 

'' No, Christina, you need not wait. I will 
make the ink dry. Just get the sand-box." 

Christina had often seen her father shake 
sand over his paper, and now she remembered 
that once he told her the sand would make the 
ink dry. So she ran for the little tin box and 
watched her mother shake the clean, fine sand 
carefully over the w^et ink. 

'' Now is it ready to fold, mother? " 

'' Yes, child, it is all ready now." 

Then Mrs. Grafton showed Christina how to 
fold and seal her letter. As envelopes had not 
come into use, the folding had to be done very 
carefully, and the sealing, too. 

Christina brought some red sealing wax, 
which Mrs. Grafton softened by the heat of the 
fire. Then she let some fall upon the letter so 
that the edge of paper that had been folded over 
was fastened like the flap of an envelope, and 
while the wax was still warm, she pressed the 
end of her thimble upon it, to make it look 
pretty. After the folding and sealing, Christina 
wrote the address : — 



1 



LETTERS OF LONG AGO 



91 



Miss Mary Grafton 

Philadelphia 

Pennsylvania 



In care of 
Mr. William Morton 



And here is the letter that came to Mary 
after she had been away from home almost two 
months : — 

Wilmingtoiij Delcmare, 
June 18, 174-3. 
INIy beloved Sister, 

I now sit down to answer your wel- 
come letter. We are all well, & hope you are 
the same. I miss you very much, so I study a 
great deal. I have learned many things since 
you went away. Mother says I have improved 
most in writing. She sets me copies every day. 
Yesterday I wrote : Fine feathers do not make 
fine birds. Mother said that I might copy it 
in this letter. I read from my Primer every 
day. Part of my lessons I can say without the 
book. I have learned all the verses about the 
alphabet. I like the C verse best, but perhaps 
that is because I like cats so much. Do you 
remember it ? It says : 



92 lifp: in the colonies 

The cat doth play 
And after slay. 

My sampler is nearly done. The letters and 
the date are finished, and I have begun a verse. 
Mother found it for me. I will write it here : — 

Delightful task ! to watch with curious eyes 
Soft forms of thought on infant bosoms rise. 

Our parents wish me to say they have been 
pleased with your letters. They hope that you 
will advance a great deal. I am taking good 
care of all your pets. Peter has grown to be a 
big kitten. I feed the chickens every day. I 
hope that you will come home soon. 

Your affectionate sister, 

Christina Grafton. 

P. S. Our father & mother beg you to assure 
Aunt Sally & Uncle William of their kind 
re2;ards.' 

C. G. 

This was indeed a welcome letter to Mary. 
She always kept it, and her great-great-grand- 
children have it now. They like to look at the 
pretty, old-fashioned writing and think what 
a sweet little girl their great-great-great-aunt 
Christina must have been. 



1 



LETTERS OF LONG AGO 93 

Learn: — 

Be unto others kind and true, 
As you'd have others be to you ; 
And neither do nor say to men 
Whate'er you would not take again. 

— The Golden Eule, as Cknsthia read it in 
the New England Primer. 



A MAY DAY JOURNEY 

On May Day morning in the year 1727 every 
Gary, large and small, was out of bed early. 
Were they not all going to Jamestown to the 
festival ? There was sure to be a May Queen — 
the prettiest of the young girls, — and if there 
was a Queen, of course there would be a May- 
pole. 

Nobody ever heard of having a May Queen 
without having also a dance around a Maypole. 
And probably there would be music and foot- 
races and wrestling matches and perhaps a horse- 
race. It would be a grand day, something like 
Fourth of July, we should think, though all this 
happened fifty years before the Fourth was 
thought of. 

When Clarice Gary slid out of her high canopy 
bed and ran to the window, she found that it was 
just the brightest morning of the whole spring- 
time. The sun was shining on the river, mak- 
ing the water look like glass ; and the blossoms 
of the dogwood and apple trees made the whole 
plantation one great garden. 

94 



A MAY DAY JOURNEY 95 

But Clarice could not wait to admire the 
beauty of the view from her window : she must 
tie her shoestrings and fasten her tucker more 
quickly than ever before, for as soon as break- 
fast was over, all the family were to start from 
the little wharf close by the tobacco house and 
sail in their own sloop to Jamestown. 

It was a perfect morning for a sail : the breeze 
was soft and fragrant, the robins and bluebirds 
and thrushes were holding a festival of their 
own, and a rare flower carpet stretched back 
from each bank of the river. The occupants of 
the boat, however, paid little heed to the beauty 
of sight and sound all around them, for they 
were either thinking of the sports of the day or 
looking ahead for a glimpse of the bend which 
would bring them in sight of the old town. 

It appeared at last ! There was the old church ; 
there were the few houses left standing, and the 
ruins of others that had been burned by Bacon's 
soldiers; and there were ivy-covered piles which 
marked the site of still other houses which had 
belonged to people who had been killed by the 
Indians. 

Clarice took little notice of the ivy and the 
ruins, for in a meadow a little to one side of the 
town she could actually see the Maypole with 



96 LIFE IN THE COLONIES 

its gay-colored ribbons. That was what she had 
come to see ! Her eyes danced. 

'* Perhaps some time," she thought, '' if I grow 
to look like Katherine " — for Clarice thought 
her oldest sister the most beautiful girl in the 
world — '' I may be chosen the Queen of the 
May." With this thought in mind she stepped 
on shore as daintily as any queen and went with 
the others to the meadow. 

There they found many friends of the family. 
A few people had come even from Williams- 
burgh, which was the largest town in Virginia, 
but most of them came from the plantations 
along the river. Some had come in chariots, or 
coaches, some in chaises, some on horseback, and 
others in what we should call rowboats. 

It was not nine o'clock when the Gary family 
reached the meadow, and there was time for Mr. 
and Mrs. Gary to greet many of their neighbors 
before the trumpet should sound and the May 
Queen and her train should come from one of 
the fine old mansions near the field. Glarice 
stood by her mother's side and courtesied to all 
to whom her mother spoke. She found the 
period of waiting rather stupid, but it did not 
last long. 

Soon the trumpet sounded and the May Queen 



A MAY DAY JOURNEY 97 

appeared. She was very beautiful ; but not so 
beautiful — thought the loyal little sister — as 
Katherine would be with flowers in her hair and 
around her neck and on her gown. 

After the trumpet had sounded a second time, 
the sports began. First there was a wrestling 
match between two traders who lived some dis- 
tance up the river. One of them sometimes 
came to the Gary plantation and had given the 
children a few Indian trinkets. Clarice, how- 
ever, cared very little for this contest and spent 
most of her time looking at the pretty May 
Queen, with the flower wreath for a crown ; but 
Clarice's brother John did not take his eyes off" 
the wrestlers until his friend had won. 

When the trumpet next sounded, four fid- 
dlers took their seats for their contest. Each 
in turn played his prettiest tune. Clarice could 
hardly keep her feet still ; she wanted so much 
to dance. Oh ! how she did Avant to dance ! 
But nobody mistrusted that the quiet little girl 
on the grass by her mother's side was holding 
one foot in her hand to keep it from running 
away with her. Clarice was sorry when the 
music was done and the musicians marched ofl*, 
all playing their diflerent tunes at the same 
time. 



98 LIFE IN THE COLONIES 

Next there came a foot race between two In- 
dians. John liked that better than Chirice did : 
the music was still in her head and she felt a 
bit dreamy. 

After the Indians had finished, six young 
girls ran a race around the Maypole. That 
was fun. One of the runners was smaller than 
the others but very pretty. Clarice hoped that 
she would win ; but, no, a very unattractive girl 
with a disagreeable smile crossed the line first. 
Clarice said it seemed too bad because the little 
one was so pretty ; but Katherine said it was 
only fair because the other w^as so plain. 

When this race was over, the May Queen, 
with a graceful little speech, distributed the 
prizes. Clarice thought that there was to be 
nothing more before luncheon, and she w^as 
sorry. John thought so, too, and he said to her 
ruefully, '' The day is half gone ; and you know 
the last half of anything always goes faster than 
the first." 

But they need not have been so mournful, 
for in a moment the companions of the May 
Queen took their places around the Maypole 
and began the pretty Maypole dance. It w^as 
the best part of the day, so Clarice thought, 
and she hardly breathed as the bright ribbons 



A MAY DAY JOURNEY 99 

were braided and unbraided and braided again. 
Oh, it was the prettiest sight she had ever seen ! 

This proved to be really the last part of the 
entertainment before luncheon. In the after- 
noon there was a race between two famous Vir- 
ginia horses, and then, alas ! — it was time to go 
home. 

'' The little maid might ride home with us," 
said Mrs. Burke, Clarice's godmother, as the 
people were leaving the beautiful green meadow. 
" There is plenty of room in the coach ; and Ave 
shall pass your plantation before the child's bed- 
time, I trow." 

Mrs. Gary was willing that Clarice should go, 
and another joy was added to a day already 
crowded with pleasure. 

The Burke's coach was the most splendid 
carriage Clarice had ever seen : the body was 
yellow with vermilion trimmings ; the cushions 
were blue velvet, and on the doors there was 
painted the coat-of-arms of the Burke family. 
On all great days it was drawn by four black 
horses ; and with a negro coachman and a negro 
footman, it was by far the shoAviest turn-out at 
the May-day festival. 

Again Clarice stepped like a queen when Mr. 
Burke assisted her into the big coach as formally 
I OFC. 



100 LIFE IX THE COLONIES 

as he had handed in Mrs. Burke and his sister. 
This time she thought of a story she had heard 
of Queen Elizabeth and of a royal journey 
through London. Why was not this just as 
good ? She would play that the tall pines and 
cypresses along the road were the houses of the 
great city. 

It was warm in the coach and in time Clarice 
began to feel sleepy. She did not want to go to 
sleep and lose a part of the ride, so she straight- 
ened up and wriggled first one foot and then 
the other ; one hand and then the other ; then 
she wriggled each finger on the right hand. 
Just as she began w^ith the fingers of the left, 
Mr. Burke asked her if she was going ''proces- 
sioning " the next day. 

'' Oh, no, sir ! " she gasped, '' only the men 
and boys are going." 

Perhaps Mr. Burke knew that and asked the 
question only to wake her up, for he laughed 
too heartily over such a simple answer, Clarice 
thought. 

'* Why did he ask me that ? " wondered 
Clarice. *' ' Processioning ' is fun for John, but 
I shall have to stay at home." 

She knew that John was even then looking 
forward to going with the men and boys from 






A MAY DAY JOURNEY 101 

the neighboring plantations to examine the 
boundaries. Barbed wire had not been thought 
of in those days, and as the plantations were 
large and the country was new, there had not 
been time to build many fences of stone or rails. 
Blazed trees w^ere used a great deal to show the 
boundary lines. Often a corner was marked by 
a pile of stones ; and sometimes a whole line of 
trees was planted for a fence. Once a year the 
men and boys went around to see if new trees 
must be blazed, fresh piles of stones made, or 
more trees planted. It meant an all-day picnic, 
Clarice had heard John say. 

'^ Speaking of 'processioning,' I am going to 
set out five new pear trees to mark the line more 
plainly between my north meadow and neighbor 
Gary's land," Mr. Burke said to his wife. 

As pear trees were interesting to Clarice only 
in the fall when the fruit ^vas ripe, she shut her 
eyes to see just how the May Queen looked 
when she gave the flower-trimmed fiddle to the 
musician who won that prize. It was a mistake 
to shut them, for they would not open again— 
to stay open — until the next morning. 

The great coach jolted on and Clarice went 
more and more soundly to sleep. The only 
thing that she saw clearly when she reached 



102 LIFE IN THE COLONIES 

home and was carried upstairs was the bright 
yellow turban on old Chloe's head. 

''Is she a queen with a golden crown?" 
thought Clarice sleepily. '' She must be, — but 
— but — queen — queen — queen — of — of " 

She really could not answer her own question, 
and though she wanted to think it out, her 
heavy eyelids shut in spite of herself. 

Learn : — 

You must wake and call me early, call me early, mother 

dear ; 
To-morrow '11 be the happiest time of all the glad New 

Year ; 
Of all the glad New Year, mother, the maddest, merriest 

day; 
For I'm to be Queen o' the May, mother, I'm to be Queen 

o' the May. 

— Alfred Tennyson. 



THE POOR DEBTOR'S CHILDREN 



*' I, FOR one, shall be glad to go," said John's 
father. And John's mother answered quickly, 
" 'Tis indeed better than I had dared to hope." 

John and his sister Julia were playing quietly 
in one corner of the room. They both looked 
up as their parents spoke, and both saw the joy 
in the eyes of father and mother. That was a 
glad sight for the children, for theirs was usually 
a sad home. 

John and Julia Dexter lived a long time ago 
in England, when the country was so badly gov- 
erned that people were punished severely for 
trifling misdeeds. A man who cut down a 
cherry tree might be killed as a penalty. Even 
an honest man, if he was too poor to pay all his 
debts, could be sent to prison ; and, sad to tell, 
such a man often had to stay there all his life. 
What a useless punishment that must have 
been ! And how unwise it was to send an hon- 
est man to jail, rather than help him make a 

living ! 

103 



104 LIFE IN THE COLONIES 

Mr. Dexter had been a merchant, but he had 
met with ill fortune, and his creditors had said 
that he must go to jail. For six years he had 
lived in the tall, dark, brick prison, and had 
never once been outside the high gate. Mrs. 
Dexter and the children lived in the jail, too, 
for they had no other home. Besides, they 
wanted to be with the father, for they loved him 
dearly, and they knew it was not his fault that 
he was poor. They might go outside the high 
gate if they wished, but they did not go very 
often. London was so large and so wicked a 
city that it was not safe for children to play in 
the streets by themselves ; and Mrs. Dexter, who 
tried to earn a little money by sewing, had no 
time to go with them. 

John could just remember the large house 
where he used to live, but Julia had never been 
in any house but the jail. She was born there 
five years before this story begins. 

But this day joyful news had come to the 
gloomy prison. There was a man in England 
who wanted to make people better and happier. 
His name was James Oglethorpe. He had heard 
about Mr. Dexter and about hundreds of other 
men suffering in the same way. Good General 
Oglethorpe said to himself: ''There is land in 



THE POOR DEBTOR'S CHILDREN 105 

America — acres of it — that our king owns. 
Will he not send these honest men across the 
sea and let them begin life over again ? " 

Sure enough, the king was willing, and now 
news had come to the little room in the London 
jail that Mr. Dexter might sail over the ocean 
and be a free man again. 

Do you wonder that the poor prisoner was 
glad to go, or that the tears stood in his eyes as 
he thanked God for noble General Oglethorpe? 
Do you wonder that Mrs. Dexter cried for joy, 
and that, when the children heard the plans, 
they were happier than they had ever been be- 
fore? 

II 

That same afternoon John and Julia heard 
all about the plans. A great ship was to sail 
out into the blue ocean, and carry them and 
their father and mother far away to the west- 
ward. They were going to a land where it Avas 
warm and sunny most of the time, and where 
the fields were green all the year round. 

''What are the fields like?" inquired little 
Julia eagerly. 

'' I cannot make you understand very well, 
dear, but they are most like the great green vel- 



106 LIFE IN THE COLONIES 

vet carpets in rich people's houses," her mother 
answered. " And they are as soft and sweet as 
they can be." 

'' Does anybody lock them at night, mother? " 
continued the little girl. 

" No, my child. The country is open for 
everybody to enjoy. It is only in the jails that 
gates are closed every night." 

•'Did you ever see the fields, father?" was 
Julia's next question. 

''Yes, Julia. When I was a boy, I lived in 
the country and I have played many a day in 
the fields and under the trees." 

" What is the name of the new country, 
father?" asked John. 

"They have named it Georgia, for our king." 

" Does anybody live there now? " 

" Oh, yes, my son. Two years ago General 
Oglethorpe sailed away to Georgia with a good 
many people. They have built a towai there, 
and they are all happy and well." 

"The other day the turnkey told me that 
America was full of Indians and wasn't fit to 
live in. What did he mean, father? " 

" True, John, it is full of Indians, and I sup- 
pose they are ugly neighbors. They are tall, 
straight people, with reddish skin and black 



THE POOR DEBTOR'S CHILDREN 107 

hair. No one knows how long they have lived 
in America, but it is a long, long time." 

*^ Are they bad people, father?" asked Julia 
anxiously. 

" They are not very good, I am afraid," was the 
father's answer. " They do not like the white 
men very well, and in the northern colonies 
they have tried to burn the towns and to mur- 
der the settlers." 

" Oh, father ! " cried Julia, '' shall we see the 
Indians?" 

'' I fear we shall, little girl. There are a good 
many of them in Georgia. But I don't believe 
they will trouble us, for they have given Gen- 
eral Oglethorpe the land he wanted and have 
promised not to harm the English." 

*' Doesn't the land belong to King George, 
anyway ? " asked John in surprise. 

*' The English claim it because they helped to 
find it, but the Indians were living there when 
the English came, and so they claim it, too. 
Still, America is large enough for us all." 

''Then there is another reason for not being 
afraid," went on Mr. Dexter, looking at Julia. 
'' The chief of the Georgia Indians, Tomo-chi- 
chi, came to visit England with General Ogle- 
thorpe. He is a very good man, everybody says, 



108 LIFE IN THE COLONIES 

though he might frighten Julia if she should see 
him. He paints his face with daubs of red, as 
the Indians like to do, and wears clothes of scar- 
let and gold." 

'' Oh, father," interrupted John, '' shall we see 
him?" 

'' Not before we get to Georgia, for he went 
back last winter. But I am sure that we shall 
see him by and by, for he will want to help the 
new colony." 

" Oh, I wish he had waited to go back with 
us ! I hope he will come the first day after we 
get there." And John's eyes danced to think of 
it. '' How soon shall we start, father ? " 

'' In two weeks, my boy. The time will go 
quickly enough." 

But, instead, the time dragged. Each day 
seemed longer than the longest day John or 
Julia could remember, and it was just as long 
for the patient father and mother as for the eager 
boy and girl. 

At last, one October morning, the great prison- 
gate shut behind them, and they went out across 
the London streets on the first part of their way 
to freedom. On the ship Symond they found 
others of the little company already gathered. 
There were hopeful looking men and women. 




John axd Julia leaving London. 



THE POOR DEBTOR'S CHILDREN 109 

and children, too, with bright faces and wonder- 
ing eyes. 

Getting under way promised to take a long 
time. '' I thought we should start as soon as we 
came on board," said Julia in a rather disap- 
pointed tone. 

'' So did I," said John. '' Why don't we start, 
father?" 

'' We must wait for the other ship, The London 
Merchant, to come down the river. Then you 
must not be surprised if bad weather and high 
winds keep us some time afterwards." 

Mr. Dexter was right. It was several weeks 
before they could sail many miles ; but at last 
the Syinond and The London Merchant were 
fairly on their way. It seemed to the children 
as if they should never tire of watching the two 
great ships cut merrily through the waves ; but 
long before their usual bedtime the salt air and 
the bright water had made their eyelids shut 
tight, and before they knew it the great ship had 
rocked them to sleep. 

Ill 

God's watchful care be o'er ye, 
His breezes blow before ye, 
To health and strength restore ye, 
Upon the deep blue sea. 



no LIFE IN THE COLONIES 

With sorrows all behind ye, 
No more shall hot tears bliud ye, 
But hapi)iness shall find 3 e, 
Across the deep blue sea. 

There fertile lands entreat ye, 
There sunny homes await ye. 
And Fortune's joys shall greet ye — 
Beyond the deep blue sea. 

There none shall dare oppress ye. 
There all shall free confess ye. 
And children's children bless ye — 
Far o'er the deep blue sea. 

IV 

It had been December when the ships had 
finally started, and England had been cold, 
dark, and dreary. Now early in February the 
weather was as clear and warm as on a summer 
day in England. Off in the distance, rising 
from the blue sea, was a long line of green. 
What could that be, the children wondered. 

'' Those must be the pine groves along the 
shore," some one answered. 

Julia looked up quickly. It was her new 
friend, Mr. John Wesley, Avho had spoken to 
her. Mr. Wesley was a young minister, who, 
with his brother Charles, had been willing to 



THE POOR DEBTOR'S CHILDREN 111 

sail with the prisoners in order to help build up 
the colony and to preach to the Indians. 

Almost every day after morning service, he 
had some kind word of greeting for the children. 
After he went back to England, he became one 
of the greatest preachers in the world, and John 
and Julia were always glad that they had once 
known him. This morning he stayed with 
them a few minutes, and they all watched the 
shore as it seemed to come nearer and nearer. 

" I think the trees must be glad to see us, Mr. 
Wesley," said Julia after a while. 

" What makes you think so, Julia?" the min- 
ister asked. 

'' Why, they are bowing to us now, just as if 
they said, ' Won't you come on shore with us ? ' " 

" But trees can't talk, Julia," said her brother 
quickly. 

" I think they are glad to see us, anyway," re- 
peated Julia, and nobody disputed her. 

The colonists could not land at once. It was 
almost a month before they stepped on the 
island that was to be their home. Waiting was 
hard, but they were used to it by that time ; and 
meanwhile something happened that John, at 
least, would gladly have waited another month 
to see. 



112 LIFE IN THE COLONIES 

" Look, Julia, look ! " he exclaimed one day. 
'' There is Tomo-chi-chi in that little boat ! See 
the feathers in his hair ! And his face is 
painted ! See the two Indians with him ! Oh, 
I hope he is coming on the ship ! " 

It was really Tomo-chi-chi in his war-paint 
and feathers and in his gold and scarlet dress. 
His wife and nephew were with him and they 
all came on board the Sijmond. 

'' Let us go where we can see better," said 
John. 

But Julia hung back. '' I am afraid of them," 
she said. 

'' Why, they won't hurt you, Julia. They have 
brought us some presents, I think. Don't you 
see those two big jars ? " 

Tomo-chi-chi had come to welcome the Eng- 
lish, and, most of all, to see Mr. Wesley and his 
brother. ''I am glad you are come. My people 
need you," he told them. 

His wife, too, seemed pleased. She went up 
to the Wesleys, holding out to them the two jars 
that John had noticed. The children could see 
that one jar was full of milk, but they did not 
know what the thick, yellow liquid in the other 
could be. They found out afterwards that it 
was honey. 



THE POOR DEBTOR'S CHILDREN 113 

A few days after Tomo-clii-chi's visit, the 
colonists went to tlie island where they were to 
live. It stood at the mouth of a large river, and 
seemed to be all ready for them. There was a 
cleared place for their houses, and around the 
opening were the sweet-smelling forests with a 
thick growth of oak and pine and bay and 
sassafras. The colonists named their little vil- 
lage Frederica, and John and Julia were not the 
only ones who thought it the prettiest place they 
had ever seen. 

Soon the work of settling began in earnest. 
How long do you suppose it took to build the 
Dexter house ? It was begun one morning early, 
and at night everything was finished. For the 
home was not built of wood or brick or stone. 
It was March then and warm in Georgia. The 
family needed only some sort of shelter from 
the rain and the sun. 

Mr. Dexter, with some of his friends, began 
to cut forks and poles for a framework. Others, 
all this time, were gathering the smooth, hand- 
some palmetto leaves, and still others used these 
leaves in thatching the roof. This house was 
called a '' bower," and any child would like 
to live in such a dwelling a little while, at 
least. Afterwards, Mr. Dexter built a better 



114 LIFE IN THE COLONIES 

and stronger home, but John and Julia alwa^^s 
liked their " tree-house " best. 

After the bower was built, the children helped 
in the planting. The seed must be sown at once, 
for the colonists were to raise all their food. Do 
you wonder what they lived on while the crops 
were growing ? Good Mr. Oglethorpe had looked 
after that matter, and had given each person 
food enough to last until the harvest-time. 

How anxious the children were to see the 
first green shoots ! They could hardly believe 
that little seeds, covered up tight in the earth, 
could push their w^ay out and grow into large 
green plants. They had not long to wait, how- 
ever ; and one morning their sharp eyes saw the 
tiny blades growing ^vhere lately the grains of 
barley had been hidden. 

So the spring and summer passed swiftly by. 
The crops grew, the mocking bird and the red- 
bird and the bobolink sang their cheerful songs, 
and the children saw new wonders every day. 
It was the beginning of a healthy and happy 
life for the little boy and girl of the London 
jail. 



APPENDIX 

The following exercises are inserted in the hope that they will prove 
suggestive to those teachers who wish to make the stories the basis of 
oral and written language work. 

The First New England Christmas 

Write in your own words : — 

(1) Why the Pilgrims went to Holland. 

(2) Why the Pilgrims came to America. 



Dorothy's Hornbook 

How old was Dorothy when she went to school ? 

What was her primer called ? 

How did she wear it ? 

Draw a picture of Dorothy's hornbook. Notice that 
some of the old-fashioned letters are not just like ours. 

Ask your teacher what books Dorothy read when she 
grew older. 



A Puritan Sabbath 
Fill in the blanks : — 

Nathaniel Mather was born in — 
His father's name was 



His brother's name was . 

The Sabbath began at on Saturday. 

115 



116 lifp: in the colonies 

Everybody had to go to meeting iu the and 

in the . 

The little boys sat on the . 



The punished them if they were 

naughty. 

Nathaniel had to study the every Sabbath. 

See whether you can find out something about Cotton 
Mather. 



Soap- Ma KING at the Rowlands' 
[Supply : liej lay, lye, laid.'] 

The egg on top of the when William 

it on the liquid. 



An egg will on the top of all strong 



A is a falsehood ; but is water that has 

run through wood ashes. 

Why did Goodwife Howland choose spring-time for 
the soap-making? 

How many years could Richard remember ? 

Write a story of something that hapj)ened as long ago 
as you can remember. 



When the Indians Fell on Saco 
See whether you can find out : — 

(1) Who wrote the poetry in the story. 

(2) What other stanza in this book he wrote. 

(3) What story he wrote about an Indian that 

lived on Cape Cod. Massachusetts. 
Find and copy the stanza in this book in which Marie 
tells who she is. 



I 



APPENDIX 117 

Find aud copy the stauza that tells what Goodwife 
Garvin answered. 

Who governs Canada now ? 

What nation do you think governed Canada when Mary 
Garvin lived there ? 

See whether you can find out what made the change. 



Candle-Making at the Coolidges' 

Where have you seen candles used ? 

Write a letter to a little girl who lived two hundred 
years ago, telling her w^hy kerosene lamps are better than 
candles. 

Tell something interesting about electric lights. 



Telling Time Without a Clock 

Draw a picture of an hourglass. Sliow^ that half an 
hour has passed since it was turned. 

What other story in this book tells about an hour- 
glass ? What happened when it was turned the second 
time ! 

What good place to make noon -marks do you know '? 
How would you make them ? 

What two days in the year should you select on which 
to make the marks ? See whether you can find out how 
many times a year and on what days the sun would 
shine exactly half-way between the marks. 

How did the sundial look ? 

(1) What marked the time of day ? 

(2) Where was the shadow at half-past three 1 
When was the sundial of no use ? 



118 LIFE IN THE COLONIES 

Here is another sundial motto for you to copy 
I mark only sunny hours. 



Two Letters of Long Ago 
Write a letter to Mary Grafton, telling her : — 

(1) How one would go now from Wilmington to 

Philadelphia. 

(2) About your last ride on the cars. 

(3) Why you would rather live now than in her 

time. 
Write a letter to Christina Grafton, telling about : — 

(1) The first letter you ever wrote : why you wrote 

it, to whom, on what, and with what, and 
how much it cost to send it. 

(2) Your school : how many i^upils there are, what 

you study, and what you have to read fi'om. 



A May-Day Joueney 
Supply the correct words for the blanks : — 

John. — You ought to have gone with us, 

Clarice. 

Claeice. — Did you have to x^lant and make 

of stones ? 

John. — Yes, and we the trees, too. 

Claeice. — I would rather go to to the May- 
day festival. 

John. — What did you like best there? 

Claeice. — Oh, the dance around the , 

didn't you? 

John. — No, indeed, I'd rather see with paint 

and feathers any time. 



APPENDIX 119 

See whether you cau find out : — 

(1) When Jamestown was settled. 

(2) How it got its name. 

(3) Who was Bacon and why did his soldiers des- 

troy the town ? 



The Poor Debtor's Children 
Fill in the blanks : — 

In people who could not pay their were 

sent to . General sailed away with many 

of these poor and founded the of . 

Two good and famous men, and his brother 

came to with . These colo- 
nists built houses that they called . The children 

called them . The colonists named their 

town . 

Tell from the story :— 

Who was the king of England at this time? 
In what direction is Georgia from England ? 
How long did the voyage take"? 
See whether you can find out :— 
W^hen Georgia was first settled ? 
What large city was settled before Frederica? 



ADVERTISEMENTS. 



AN ELEMENTARY HISTORY OF 
THE UNITED STATES 

By ALLEN C. THOMAS, A. M. 

Author of '■'■A History of the United States,''' and Professor of History 
in Ha'verford College. 



THE Elementary History is for the use of younger 
classes, and serves as an introduction to the 
author's larger History of the United States. 

Effort has been made to present such important phases 
of national growth as the difficulties and dangers of ex- 
ploration, and how they were overcome by earnestness 
and perseverance ; the risks and hardships of settle- 
ment, and how they were met and conquered ; the inde- 
pendence and patriotism of the colonists, and how they 
triumphed; the effect of environment upon character; 
the development of the people in politics and govern^ 
ment and in social life ; and the progress of invention 
and its effect upon national development. 

Realizing the fascination that the personalities of our 
national heroes have for the young, the author has 
chosen those men who best illustrate the important 
periods in the making of our nation, and in a series 
of interesting biographical sketches uses their lives as 
centers around which the history is written. Thus the 
book has all the freshness and vitality, all the rapidity 
of action, and all the interest, of tales of patriotism and 
courage and untiring endurance, and yet preserves ac- 
curacy of fact and due proportion of importance of events. 

Cloth, jj^ P^g^^- Maps and illustrations. Introduction price, 6o cents. 

D. C. HEATH & CO., Publishers, Boston New York Chicago 



America's Story 
For America's Children 



1 



By MARA L. PRATT. 



A series of history readers which present the per- 
sonal and picturesque elements of the story in a way 
as attractive to young readers as romance, and which 
will supplement the regular instruction in history in an 
effective manner. 

Every statement of fact is historically accurate and 
the illustrations are correct even to the smallest details. 
Unusual care has been taken in these matters. 

These books are effectively illustrated in black and 
white and in color ; are bound in attractive and artistic 
cloth covers; uniform in size, 6^^ xy^ ; printed on 
extra heavy paper, in large type and contain about 1 60 
pages each. 

Book I. The Beginners* Book. 35 cents. 

A delightful story book, developing centers of interest through picturesque and 
personal incidents. 

Book 11. Exploration and Discovery. 40 cents. 

The great explorers and discoverers from Lief Ericson to Henry Hudson. 

Book III. Tlie Earlier Colonies. 40 cents. 

An accurate and fascinating account of the first settlements and the i 3 colonies. 

Book IV. The Later Colonial Period. 40 cents. 

Settlements in the Mississippi Valley, The French and Indian Wars, etc. 

Book V. The Revolution and the Republic. 40 cents. 

The causes that led to it, the men who guided events, and subsequent civil 
history. 

Descriptive circular free on request. 



D. C. HEATH & CO., Publishers, Boston, New York, Chicago 



REl^lSED AND ILLUSTRATED 



The Heart of Oak Books 

A Collection of Traditional Rhymes and Stories for 
Children, and of Masterpieces of Poetry and Prose 
for Use at Home and at School, chosen with special 
reference to the cultivation of the imagination and 
the development of a taste for good reading. 

EDITED BY 

CHARLES ELIOT NORTON 



Book I. Rhymes, Jingles and Fables. For first reader classes. Illustrated 
by Frank T. Merrill. 128 pages. 25 cents. 

Book II. Fables and Nursery Tales. For second reader classes. Illustrated 
by Frank T. Merrill. 176 pages. 35 cents. 

Book III. Fairy Tales, Ballads and Poems. For third reader classes. With 
illustrations after George Cruikshank and Sir John Tenniel. 184 
pages. 40 cents. 

Book IV. Fairy Stories and Classic Tales of Adventure. For fourth reader 
grades. With illustrations after J. M. W. Turner, Richard Doyle, 
John Flaxman, and E. Burne-Jones. 248 pages. 45 cents. 

Book V. Masterpieces of Literature. For fifth reader grades. With illustra- 
tions after G. F. Watts, Sir John Tenniel, Fred Barnard, W. C. 
Stanfield, Ernest Fosbery, and from photographs. 318 pages. 
50 cents. 

Book VI. Masterpieces of Literature. With illustrations after Horace Vernet, 
A. Symington, J. Wells, Mrs. E. B. Thompson, and from photo- 
graphs. 376 pages. 55 cents. 

Book VII. Masterpieces of Literature. With illustrations after J. M. W. Tur- 
ner, E. Dayes, Sir George Beaumont, and from photographs. 382 
pages. 60 cents. 



D. C. HEATH ^ CO., Publishers 

BOSTON NEW YORK CHICAGO LONDON 



Heath's Home and School Classics. 



FOR GRADES I AND II. 

Mother Goose : A Book of Nursery Rhymes, arranged by C. Welsh. In two parts. lUus- 
trated by Clara E. Atwood. Paper, each part, lo cents ; cloth, two parts bound in one, 
30 cents. 

Craik's So Fat and Mew Mew. Introduction by Lucy M. Wheelock. Illustrated by 
C. M. Howard. Paper, 10 cents ; cloth, accents. 

Six Nursery Classics : The House That Jack Built ; Mother Hubbard ; Cock Robin ; 
The Old Woman and Her Pig ; Dame Wiggins of Lee, and the Three Bears. Edited 
\fy M. V. O'Shea. Illustrated by Ernest Fosbery. Paper, 10 cents ; cloth, 20 cents. 

FOR GRADES II AND III. 

Crib and Fly : A Tale of Two Terriers. Edited by Charles F. Dole. Illustrated by 

Gwendoline Sandham. Paper, 10 cents ; cloth, 20 cents. 
Goody Two Shoes. Attributed to Oliver Goldsmith. Edited by Charles Welsh. With 

twenty-eight illustrations after the wood-cuts in the original edition of 1765. Paper, 

10 cents ; cloth, 20 cents. 

Segur's The Story of a Donkey. Translated by C. Welsh. Edited by Charles F. Dole. 
Illustrated by E. H. Saunders. Paper, 10 cents ; cloth, 20 cents. 

FOR GRADES III AND IV. 

Trimmer's The History of the Robins. Edited by Edward Everett Hale. Illustrated 
by C. M. Howard. Paper, 10 cents ; cloth, 20 cents. 

Aiken and Barbauld's Eyes and No Eyes, and Other Stories. Edited by M. V. O'Shea. 

Illustrated by H. P. Barnes and C. M. Howard. Paper, 10 cents; cloth, 20 cents. 
Edgeworth's Waste Not, Want Not, and Other Stories. Edited by M. V. O'Shea. 

Illustrated by W. P. Bodwell. Paper, 10 cents ; cloth, 20 cents. 

Ruskin's The King of the Golden River. Edited by M. V. O'Shea. Illustrated by 

Sears Gallagher. Paper, 10 cents ; cloth, 20 cents. 
Browne's The Wonderful Chair and The Tales It Told. Edited by M. V. O'Shea. 

Illustrated by Clara E. Atwood after Mrs. Seymour Lucas. In two parts. Paper, each 

part, 10 cents ; cloth, two parts bound in one, 30 cents. 

FOR GRADES IV AND V, 

Thackeray's The Rose and the Ring. A Fairy Tale. Edited by Edward Everett Hale. 

Illustrations by Thackeray. Paper, \s cents ; cloth, 25 cents. 
Ingelow'S Three Fairy Stories. Edited by Charles F. Dole. Illustrated by E. Ripley. 

Paper, 10 cents ; cloth, 20 cents. 
Ayrton's Child Life in Japan and Japanese Child Stories. Edited by William Elliot 

Grififis. Illustrated by Japanese Artists. Paper, 10 cents; cloth, 20 cents. 
Ewing'S Jackanapes. Edited by W. P. Trent. Illustrated by Josephine Bruce. Paper, 

10 cents ; cloth, 20 cents. 
MulOCh'S The Little Lame Prince. Preface by Elizabeth Stuart Phelps Ward, Illus- 

trated by Miss E. B. Barry. In two parts. Paper, each part, 10 cents ; cloth, two parts 

bound in one, 30 cents. 

(over.) 



Heath's Home and School Classics — Continued. 



FOR GRADES V AND VI. 

Lamb's The Adventures of Ulysses. Edited by W. P.Trent Illustrations after Flax- 
man. Paper, 15 cents ; cloth, 25 cents. 

Gulliver's Travels. I. A Voyage to Lilliput. II. A Voyage to Brobdingnag. Edited 
by T. M. Balliet. Fully illustrated. In two parts. Paper, each part, 15 cents ; cloth, 
two parts bound in one, 30 cents. 

Ewing's The Story of a Short Life. Edited by T. M. Balliet. Illustrated by A. F. 
Schmitt. Paper, 10 cents; cloth, 2ocents. 

Tales From the Travels of Baron Munchausen. Edited by Edward Everett Hale. Illus- 
trated by H. P. Barnes after Dore. Paper, 10 cents ; cloth, 20 cents. 

MulOCh'S The Little Lame Prince. Preface by Elizabeth Stuart Phelps Ward. Illus- 
trated by Miss E. B. Barry. In two parts. Paper, each part, 10 cents ; cloth, two parts 
bound in one, 30 cents. 

FOR GRADES VI AND VII. 

Lamb's Tales From Shakespeare. Introduction by Elizabeth Stuart Phelps Ward. 
Illustrated by Homer W. Colby after Pill^. In three parts. Paper, each part, ij 
cents ; cloth, three parts bound in one, 40 cents. 

Martineau's The Crofton Boys. Edited by William Elliot Griffis. Illustrated by A. F. 

Schmitt. Cloth, 30 cents. 

Motley's The Siege of Leyden. Edited by William Elliot Griffis. With nineteen illustra- 
tions from old prints and photographs, and a map. Paper, 10 cents; cloth, 2c cents. 

Brown's Rab and His Friends and Other Stories of Dogs. Edited by T. M. Balliet. 
Illustrated by David L. Munroe after Sir Noel Paton, Mrs. Blackburr, George Hardy, 
and Lumb Stocks. Paper, 10 cents ; cloth, 20 cents. 

FOR GRADES VII, VIII AND IX. 

Hamerton'S Chapters on Animals : Dogs, Cats and Horses. Edited by W. p. Trent. 

Illustrated after Sir E. Landseer, Sir John Millais, Rosa Bonheur, E. Van Muyden, 

Veyrassat, J. L. Gerome, K. Bodmer, etc. Paper, 15 cents ; cloth, 25 cents. 
Irving's Dolph Heyliger. Edited by G. H. Browne. Illustrated by H. P. Barnes. 

Paper, 15 cents ; cloth, 25 cents. 
Shakespeare's The Tempest. Edited by Sarah W. Hiestand. Illustrations after Retzch 

and the Chandos portrait. Paper, 15 cents ; cloth, 25 cents. 
Shakespeare's A Midsummer Night's Dream. Edited by Sarah W. Hiestand. Illus- 
trations after Smirke and the Droeshout portrait. Paper, 15 cents ; cloth, 25 cents. 
Shakespeare's The Comedy of Errors. Edited by Sarah W. HiesUnd. Illustrations 

after Smirke, Creswick and Leslie. Paper, 15 cents; cloth, 25 cents. 
Shakespeare's The Winter's Tale. Edited by Sarah W. Hiestand. Illustrations after 

Leslie, Wheatley, and Wright. Paper, 15 cents; cloth, 25 cents. 
Defoe's Robinson Crusoe. Edited by Edward Everett Hale. Illustrated. In four parts. 

Paper, each part, 15 cents; cloth, four parts bound in one, 60 cents. 
Jordan's True Tales of Birds and Beasts. By David Starr Jordan. Illustrated by Mary 

H. Wellman. Cloth, 40 cents. 
Fouqu^'S Undine. Introduction by Elizabeth Stuart Phelps Ward. Illustrations after 

Julius Hoppner. Cloth, 30 cents. 
Melville's Typee: Life in the South Seas. Introduction by W. P. Trent. Illustrated by 

H.W.Moore. Cloth, 45 cents. 



THE HEATH READERS 



A new series, that excels in its 

1. Interesting and well graded lessons. 

2. Masterpieces of English and American literature. 

3. Beautiful and appropriate illustrations. 

4. Clear and legible printing. 

5. Durable and handsome binding. 

6. Adaptation to the needs of modern schools. 



The Heath Readers enable teachers, whether they 
have much or little knowledge of the art, to teach children to 
read intelligently and to read aloud intelligibly. They do this 
without waste of time or effort, and at the same time that the 
books aid pupils in acquiring skill in reading, they present 
material which is in itself worth reading. 



The purpose of the Heath Readers is, first^ to enable 
beginners to master the mechanical difficulties of reading 
successfully and in the shortest time ; secotid^ to develop the 
imagination and cultivate a taste for the best literature ; 
thirds to appeal to those motives that lead to right conduct, 
industry, courage, patriotism, and loyalty to duty. The larger 
purpose is, briefly, to aid in developing an appreciation of 
that which is of most worth in life and literature. 



The series contains seven books, as follows 



Primer, 128 pages, 25 cents. 
First Reader, 130 pages, 25 cents. 
Second Reader, 176 pages, 35 cents. 
Third Reader, 256 pages, 40 cents. 



Fourth Reader, 320 pages, 45 cents. 
Fifth Reader, 352 pages, 50 cents. 
Sixth Reader, 352 pages, 50 cents. 



Descriptive circulars sent free on rtquest. 



D. C. HEATH & CO., Publishers, Boston, NewYork, Chicago 

H 13 88 -^ 



I 



